


love on repeat

by venvephe



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Banter, Boys In Love, Canon Compliant, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Music, Curses, First Kiss, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 41,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28122258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venvephe/pseuds/venvephe
Summary: It's not particularly obvious, at first. Maybe because Christmas music is everywhere this time of year - maybe because Ten isn't quite paying attention. But it's getting hard to ignore the way Christmas songs hijack the speakers whenever he's around. Because Ten iscursed.Ten is cursed to hear holiday music whenever his thoughts stray towards romance.And it’s not just when Ten thinks anything romantic, oh no - but when he thinks about Johnny. His crush. Hismaybe-even-more-than-a-crush.December has suddenly gotten a lot more complicated.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 82
Kudos: 334





	love on repeat

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, the third and last piece I wrote for NaNoWriMo 2020! 
> 
> This is, in essence, a love letter to the Christmas season, Christmas music, holiday romantic comedies, and JohnTen. It turns out I have a lot of feelings about all of these things. This was a labor of love and a true joy to write; I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! As weird and bad as 2020 has been, kpop has given me a lot of joy this year, and I hope this fic is a gift right back to fandom. 
> 
> Mountains and mountains of love to andreanna and m_writes, my writing buddies through NaNo and beyond. Your enthusiasm, cheerleading, kindness and support have made writing this year a true joy. To M especially, for you invaluable beta reading and friendship - this fic would not be as good as it is without you. I adore you both and I can't wait to keep telling more stories with you. If I can make you smile it will all have been worth it.
> 
> Music is a core part of this fic! Like, really. The playlist for love on repeat can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3RkfDI8uJkBOBMt9LokfOW?si=P29IfZdhQH-5Giyx3vkyQg) \- I highly recommend listening to specific songs as they appear in the fic, which is how I wrote many of the later scenes. 
> 
> **Important Note: This work uses a custom work skin!** For the best reading experience, please make sure you can see creator’s work skins and/or hit that “Show Creator’s Style” button at the top of the page!
> 
> Enjoy, and happy holidays ❤️

Johnny tilts his head and frowns. “Do you hear that?”

Ten pauses. It’s not very loud in this restaurant, by virtue of it being so late into the evening and the late-November weather keeping people at home. Seoul is cold and dreary today - perfect weather for soup, in Ten’s opinion.

Which is why Ten has dragged Johnny out for hotpot after another day packed with a busy schedule. It hasn’t been easy to find time for a meal like this - a quiet dinner, just the two of them - between recording and practice and the upcoming holidays.

“Hear what?” Ten asks, returning to the task of fishing his sliced meat out of the simmering broth. All around them are the sounds of murmured conversations, the bubbling of soup and the click of chopsticks, the faint whine of the vents overhead. Nothing _that_ out of the ordinary.

The crease disappears from between Johnny’s brows and he shakes his head, smiling wryly. “It’s just - I think this is the fifth time we’ve heard _Baby It’s Cold Outside_ since we got here. Like, in a row.”

Ten snorts. “Well, it is the start of the holiday season -”

“It’s the end of November! It isn’t even properly December yet!”

“- So you can’t be that surprised we’ve started to hear Christmas music,” Ten continues, amused. “Come on, aren’t you American? Don’t you start playing Christmas music the day after your Thanksgiving?”

Johnny pouts, trying and failing multiple times to nab the noodles lurking at the bottom of their pot, only for them to slide out of the grip of his chopsticks. Ten has to hide his grin behind his hand as he chews. “Well yeah, sure. But the same song? Five times in a row?”

That _is_ unusual, actually, even with the limited number of holiday songs that radio stations like to play.

Ten hums thoughtfully, trying to listen as he plucks a few vegetables out of the pot - and yeah, now that he’s paying attention, he can hear the strains of music over the chatter and laughter, the playful back-and-forth lyrics of winter romance. This version sounds pretty old-fashioned, with a jazzy piano and soft clarinet behind the vocals: _This evening has been - been hoping that you’d drop in - so very nice..._

“Huh. You’re right, that’s - that’s a little weird. I guess I haven’t been listening to the music,” Ten admits.

And he hasn’t been - because when Ten is in the same room as Johnny, his brain is attuned to exactly one thing: the man sitting across from him. Especially like this - with Johnny’s face a little pink from the steam, his blond bangs falling into his eyes, bundled in a hoodie that makes him look extra cozy. Ten has no idea how Johnny isn’t sweating, in all those layers _and_ eating hotpot. But it’s a really cute look on him.

Which - damnit. It’s really not helping this whole _crush_ business.

But it’s fine. He’s still lucky to have moments like this, despite how busy they are - moments where it’s just the two of them stealing scraps of time together, no matter the time or the place. They’ve been able to see each other a lot this fall, with the whole 2020 album and Work It; Ten wouldn’t trade that for anything, unrequited feelings or no.

Johnny nudges their feet together under the table. “Admit it - you don’t hate it, either.”

“Hate what?” Ten raises an eyebrow. Johnny taps at Ten’s shin with the toe of his shoe in time with the music until Ten is forced to retaliate, trapping Johnny’s foot between his calves and keeping it locked there as Johnny struggles and laughs.

He placidly sips his tea, smirking as Johnny wriggles unsuccessfully - he should have known he was getting into a fight that he couldn’t win. Johnny may be able to beat him in an arm wrestling match, but Ten’s a dancer. He has thighs that won’t quit.

And he’s not letting go.

Johnny sags back into his seat with a sigh, letting his leg fall limp between Ten’s - but he’s grinning wide. “The Christmas music. You like it too, even when it starts too early in the season.”

“I mean, who doesn’t like Christmas music?” Ten says, distributing the rest of their noodles between the two broths. He resolutely ignores the warmth that unfurls in his chest at the smile his admission earns him from Johnny. “But maybe I’m just a romantic.”

“Well, I am too,” Johnny tells him, meeting Ten’s gaze over his glass as he takes a sip.

And maybe Ten’s imagining it, but - in that moment, he swears that he hears the music swell a little bit louder.

-❄-

The cold weather doesn’t let up in the coming days, as November comes to a close and December begins in full swing. They see their first snow of the year within the week - just flurries, little flakes like fireflies that disappear as soon as they hit the ground - but it feels like the first true sign of winter.

And there’s the music, of course. It’s like a switch has been flipped. Suddenly, the holiday music is _everywhere._

Ten hears it every time someone fiddles with the radio on their van rides around Seoul, to and from live performances and rehearsals. It’s playing in the open lobby area at SM, in the halls between dance practice rooms. At every convenience store and restaurant and shopping mall.

Okay, maybe that last one isn’t that strange.

“What, you don’t feel like you’re in the _Christmas spirit?”_ Johnny laughs, wading his way through the racks of clothes around them. Over the top edge of his mask, his eyes are creased with amusement.

“Ugh, _no,”_ Ten whines, frowning as he tries to keep up with Johnny’s ridiculously long stride. Being best friends with a giant is usually great, but not when Johnny’s on a mission. “I mostly want to get this over with.”

Ten can hear the smile in Johnny’s voice, even though he’s face-first in a display of sweaters that Ten, personally, finds offensive to the good name of fashion. “Don’t you want to find the perfect gifts for your members?”

“Of course I do,” Ten replies, brushing by Johnny and tugging him away by the forearm. He wouldn’t be caught dead in something like that, and neither would the rest of WayV. Ten’s making a collective choice for them, for the sake of not going blind. “But we’ve been here for _hours_ and gone into a dozen stores. How are you not sick of it all yet?”

“Sick of what? Shopping with you is always fun.” Johnny grins at Ten’s sullen look, twisting his wrist in Ten’s grip so that he can squeeze Ten’s fingers before letting go. Ten carefully ignores the way his cheeks heat, thankful for his face mask. “And I’ll never get tired of Christmas music, even if it’s been nonstop Mariah Carey since we came in here.”

Ten tilts his head. “Has it really?”

Beyond the tinny sound of sleigh bells and piano coming over the speakers, Ten hasn’t been particularly paying attention to the music. The plethora of fake garland and red bows with gold bells in this store has been _more_ than enough to assault his senses with holiday cheer.

And, well. Nothing in this store is as distracting as Johnny, looking perfectly wintery in his tight jeans and brown peacoat, a beanie artfully pulled over his head, a few blond strands escaping by his ears. With his scarf looped around his elbow and a couple small bags in his other hand, it’s all too easy to imagine that they’re out here shopping for holiday gifts as - as -

Ten turns away to scan over the store, willing the blush on his cheeks to subside. At least when they’re out and about together, he has the excuse of the cold weather for when his face grows pink.

That excuse doesn’t work in the mall, unfortunately for Ten.

He’s got this under control, though. He can spend a normal evening with Johnny without letting his feelings get in the way of having a nice time. Ten’s pretty sure Johnny doesn’t suspect a thing - even if Ten’s imagination keeps running away with him. Johnny’s just his favorite person, okay? Of course Ten likes it when they spend time together.

And it’s certainly not _Johnny’s_ fault that Ten’s thoughts keep straying towards the romantic. If anything, the fact that it’s happening more than usual is _Christmas’s_ fault.

Anyway.

Johnny chuckles, pulling Ten out of his musing as he waves to another display. Blessedly, this one is less searingly colorful. Then again, Yangyang _does_ like that kind of vivid, color-block look.

“Oh yeah, dude. It’s been _All I Want For Christmas is You_ for, like, fifteen minutes.”

_Dude._ Ten scoffs; surely the song can’t have been on repeat that long. But - huh. He _can_ make out Mariah’s full-throated, warbly vocals over the sounds of bustle and conversation in the store.

_I don’t want a lot for Christmas, this is all I’m asking for - I just wanna see my baby standing right outside my door..._

Ten quirks an eyebrow. “Maybe it’s just the kind of song that when it loops, it just sounds like it’s going on forever.”

“Oh, I believe it,” Johnny’s cheek dimples a little as he smiles. “It’s a classic for a reason, but four times in a row is a little much, even for me.”

“Is it? And here I thought you were the spirit of Christmas incarnate,” Ten teases, nudging Johnny in the side with his elbow. His stomach flips when Johnny stoops, leaning in and tugging his mask down under his chin to give Ten a Look.

“Ten,” he says, feigning seriousness, “if you _want_ me to sing along to Mariah Carey, all you have to do is ask -”

“Oh, my god, please do not,” Ten gasps, covering his mouth with his hand - even though it’s already covered by his mask. “Johnny, we are in _public_ -”

“Like that’s ever stopped either of us before,” Johnny continues, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “If I had known you were such a fan of Mariah -”

“Do _not,_ Johnathan, I will walk away and pretend I don’t know you right now -”

“- And here I thought _Xiaojun_ was the one whole loved dramatic vocals in WayV -”

“Johnny!” Ten laughs, and Johnny finally cracks a wide grin, letting Ten drag the two of them down a different aisle, further into the depths of the store. “You’re _ridiculous._ Do you want to draw even more attention to us?”

Johnny just keeps smiling at him, tugging at Ten’s sleeve just to continue to make himself a nuisance, or something. He keeps his mask tucked under his chin, and Ten’s helpless against stopping himself from staring at Johnny’s full lips.

“I’m a professional singer, you know. I’m definitely up to the task. And -” Johnny holds up a finger, pointing into the air - and they both pause, waiting. After a moment, Ten realizes they’re listening to the last strains of _All I Want for Christmas is You_ … only for the song to start back at the beginning as soon as Mariah’s high notes start to fade.

“See? Back where we started,” Johnny looks down at him, eyebrows raised in a smug expression that Ten - that Ten wants to kiss off Johnny’s face, more than he is actually annoyed.

So Ten wrinkles his nose, pivoting on his heel and slipping through the racks of clothes. He tosses his hair away from his eyes with a flick and grins over his shoulder at Johnny, who doesn’t hesitate to keep following Ten like they’re attached at the hip. Which they more or less have been, today.

From the outside, it really probably _does_ look like a date. Ten tries not to think too hard about how much he wishes that were actually true.

“C’mon, Mr. Mariah Carey,” he says, smiling at the way Johnny lights up at the dumb nickname. “Let’s finish up here and get something to eat, yeah?”

It’s only a little while longer before Ten settles on what he’s picked out for Yangyang and Xiaojun. But the entire rest of the time they shop, Mariah Carey belts out her feelings over the stereo system and Johnny hums along. Or mouths the words at Ten under his breath, making dramatic karaoke faces when their eyes meet over the displays of jackets or fanny packs.

And it is a little odd that the song’s stuck on repeat. It’s not something Ten’s going to be able to get out of his head very easily - not with Johnny’s warm baritone in his ear, singing _all I want for Christmas is you._

If only, huh.

-❄-

The third time it happens, Ten isn’t even in the same _room_ as Johnny - and that’s when he starts to get suspicious that something is going on. Something _besides_ the relentless hammering of holiday spirit into the collective psyche of South Korea.

He’s sitting in the practice room alone, doing some warm-up stretches on the floor before the rest of the boys arrive - a rare moment of relative calm. Ten loves his members, make no mistake, but there’s a distinct lack of _peace and quiet_ in the WayV dorm most of the time.

It’s not often that Ten feels like he gets the chance to hear himself think. And when he gets the opportunity, he tries to make the most of it.

So he thumbs open Spotify and puts on some music to stretch to, something chill to entertain his ears as he focuses on his body. Ten spreads his legs and bends forward, sighing as he feels the satisfying stretch of his hips and hamstrings. It’s so nice to get a moment to himself, focus on how his body feels. His knees have been feeling good lately, thanks to the warm-up and post-dance stretching he’s been careful to remember.

Ten shifts through a few different stretches, noting the little twinges and sore spots as he works out the kinks, starting to warm up his muscles with dynamic stretching. The music shifts from one song to the next and he breathes through the forms, timing each stretch.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ten spots his phone light up, and he shifts forward to peer down at the notification on the screen. Ah - it’s a text from Johnny. He can only read part of the message with the screen locked, but just the sight of Johnny’s name makes heat suffuse through Ten’s chest.

Is it weird, that just the thought of Johnny warms him to his core?

Ten can’t help but wonder what Johnny’s up to right now - is he somewhere in SM, working in a different part of the complex from the dance practice rooms? Or tucked in at home in the dorm, trying to keep warm with a fresh cup of coffee? It’s been pretty cold lately; Ten can just picture Johnny, hoodie tugged up over his head as he -

Abruptly, the music changes.

Ten startles at sudden outpouring of sound from his phone’s speakers, all 80s synth and the upbeat rhythm of a hi-hat. The song fills the practice room with surprising volume - Ten didn’t think he had on his music that loud, _shit_ \- and he scrambles towards his phone, frowning. He can’t place the song, even though it sounds familiar -

And then the breathy vocal line comes on, and he realizes: it’s fucking _Wham!_

_What the fuck?_ Ten fumbles for his phone, stretching to snag it and put the music on pause. What the hell _is_ this? He’s, like, ninety percent sure that he put on his chill beats playlist to stretch to, not - not _Christmas music of dubious origin._

Ten stares down at the screen, chewing on his bottom lip as he lets the song play a little bit longer, listening to the words. _Once bitten and twice shy - I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye..._

Okay - it _is_ a pretty catchy song. Another one Johnny would probably declare a holiday classic, even if it’s on the more on the bittersweet side of romantic. It’s still fun and upbeat, all things considered.

Well, Wham! _is_ from the 80s. And in the 80s, if you couldn’t dance to it, what was the fucking point? Ten has a lot of respect for that, actually.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t know you were this into Christmas music, Ten-ge!”

Ten’s head whips around as Yangyang pushes his way into the practice room, shrugging off his coat and scarf. Ugh, goddamnit. Well, at least Ten got through most of his stretching circuit before the rest of WayV arrived. “I’m, uh - I’m not.”

Yangyang raises an eyebrow. When he emerges from pulling off his hoodie, his hair is sticking out in every direction with static; it’s unfortunately pretty cute. “Then why are you playing _Last Christmas?_ In the practice room? All by yourself, on the floor? _”_

“It just came on randomly on Spotify,” Ten says, eyebrows drawing in as he looks down to his phone again. He unlocks the screen and pauses the music; at least only Yangyang heard it. “No idea why, though.”

“Hey, no shame, we all have our guilty pleasures,” Yangyang grins at him, dropping his bag and pile of outerwear in the back of the room before coming over to Ten’s side and flopping down next to him, mirroring Ten’s stretches. “I just didn’t know you liked Christmas so much.”

Ten opens his mouth to deny it, but - but he finds that he can’t, and closes his mouth with a quiet click. He’s not sure when it happened, exactly, but for some reason he _is_ really into Christmas this year.

Well - he may not know when it happened, but he’s pretty sure he knows why. Because the _why_ is a _who,_ and that _who_ is six feet tall and has the American predisposition for all things holly and jolly.

God, Ten is so gone for him.

“But hey,” Yangyang continues, bending one way and then the other over his long, long legs like the giraffe that he is, oblivious to Ten’s inner thoughts, “better focus on practice for now, but we can play holiday music on the ride back to the dorm! Oh, just wait until I tell Hendery about this -”

“ _Ugh,”_ Ten says, head tipping back so he can look at the ceiling, and Yangyang laughs. “Don’t you _dare,_ Liu Yangyang. Do _not_ tell Hendery - or anyone else - or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

And of course, because Ten’s luck would have it - there’s the squeak of sneakers on wood, immediately followed by the _thunk_ of the practice room door closing and several steps of footsteps.

“Tell me what, Ten-ge?” Hendery asks, grinning at the two of them in the mirror.

Ten rolls his head against his shoulder, eyes narrowed at Yangyang next to him. Yangyang smirks back in challenge. In the mirror, Ten watches as Kun and Lucas follow Hendery into the practice room, Xiaojun and Winwin trailing behind them, chatting.

Yangyang opens his mouth, and Ten lunges for him.

His phone clatters to the floor as they tussle, rolling around each other in something that quickly turns into a tickle-fight, because Yangyang is a literal _child_ so much of the time. But at least it leaves them both too breathless to say anything else, even if Ten has to sit on Yangyang to ensure his silence.

Well, he mostly just keeps whining about older-brother bullying, but that’s pretty par for the course.

Kun glances over at them as he sips from his water bottle, nonplussed. “Please don’t commit murder before practice, Ten. What were you doing in here, anyway?”

Ten glares down at Yangyang, daring him to say anything, and Yangyang just keeps grinning up at him with a sharp-eyed look of faux innocence. Typical maknae shit.

“Nothing,” Ten says, clambering off Yangyang to push himself to standing, shaking out his limbs. “Just warming up and stretching before you guys showed up, since I was here already.”

Yangyang stays starfished on the floor, rotating his feet back and forth idly like the wiper blades on a car. “Would you have been fine with him murdering me _after_ practice, Kun-ge?”

“Depends,” Kun smiles, walking over to nudge Yangyang in the side with the toe of his sneaker, “on how well we actually learn this choreography and how much of a pain in the ass you plan on being, didi.”

The teasing argument that breaks out after that is more or less the norm for WayV, so Ten rolls his eyes and tunes them out. He shucks his own sweatshirt, finding a hat to jam over his head as their managers trickle in and practice really gets into full swing. Kun and Yangyang continue to be loud in the center of the room, Hendery joining in and hanging off Kun as they both look down at Yangyang spread-eagled and trade cheerful insults back and forth.

They’re all so weird. Ten really loves it.

He scoops his phone off the floor to leave it with his sweatshirt off to the side - and pauses, thinking. Johnny’s name is still showing on the lock screen; Yangyang had distracted Ten before he got the chance to read Johnny’s messages.

It’s fine - Ten will get to it on their next break. Johnny knows he has a rigorous rehearsal schedule as they prepare for their next stage.

What Ten _doesn’t_ get is why Christmas music started pouring from his phone out of nowhere. He swipes over to Spotify again, frowning down at the paused song and the little black-and-white thumbnail. The only reason Ten has even _heard_ of this song is because of Johnny, let alone as being able to recognize it as _Wham!_ There’s no reason for it to be playing on _Ten’s_ Spotify.

Huh. Well, it probably came up because of the algorithm or whatever, playing music that’s currently popular - and it’s December now, of course people are listening to Christmas music in full swing.

Ten locks his phone and tosses it into the hood of his sweatshirt. He’ll just have to come up with a good enough threat to make sure that Yangyang doesn’t tell the rest of WayV, lest he end up on the receiving end of a deluge of 80s hits.

It probably doesn’t mean anything that it started to play while Ten was thinking about Johnny, though - and that of all the Christmas songs, Spotify served him the one about _longing._

...Right?

Whatever - coincidences happen, and Ten has practice to concentrate on. It’s easy enough to put out of mind.

-❄-

“Is it cool if I put on some music?”

Ten looks up from where he’s setting another dish on the table, laying out bowls for dinner. Well - _dinner_ is a relative word; it’s on the late side, but they’ve only just gotten back from a long day of practice. Thank goodness for takeout.

Lucas grins back at him, already swaying side to side with a little wiggle of his hips, phone cradled in his massive hands. “Xiaojun got a turn last time.”

Ten shrugs one shoulder, putting the seventh bowl down in its place. “Sure, why not? I don’t know why you’re asking me, though. You’ll have to fight Hendery for the speaker.”

Lucas pulls out a chair, looking down at his phone to put on a playlist. “You’re the oldest one in the room, Ten-ge,” he replies, flashing Ten a grin that quickly turns mischievous. “Besides, I can take Hendery.”

“Better not let him hear you say that,” Kun says, carrying in their unboxed dinner - fried chicken and a variety of sides, at least one of which Ten is relieved to see contains the color green. Kun’s predilection for being a mom friend is the only thing saving them all from scurvy on most days. “I really don’t want to have to break up another fight at family dinner.”

“To be fair, it wouldn’t be a very _long_ fight,” Ten says, sliding into the seat next to Lucas with a grin. “Xuxi has, what - ten centimeters on Hendery? _And_ the muscle.”

Momentarily distracted from his music search, Lucas laughs and flexes a bicep for Ten, pulling the sleeve of his tee up to show off. Obligingly, Ten _oohs_ and squeezes the muscle appreciatively.

Listen - if Ten can’t get front-row tickets to a gun show from his _actual_ crush, he doesn’t mind stroking Lucas’s ego a little bit.

“Hendery’s not _that_ short,” Lucas replies, patting his sleeve into place again and turning back to his phone. With a few taps, he’s synced to the bluetooth speaker sitting on the cabinet, and something lofi and very _Lucas_ starts playing. “But maybe his big personality just makes up for it, like -”

“Hey!” Hendery laughs, skidding into the room on socked feet and taking a seat across from them, waggling his eyebrows. “I can’t tell if that was a diss or a compliment, actually.”

Ten rolls his eyes; here they go again. If Kun is seriously hoping to have a meal where none of them are poking fun at each other or starting good-natured arguments, he’s thinking of a different kpop group.

Then again, Ten has it on good authority (namely Johnny and Mark) that both 127 and Dream really aren’t much better, in that respect.

Lucas digs into the box of fried chicken, ignoring - or not noticing - the huff from Kun as he ferries the last of the food to the table. “Definitely a compliment, bro. Being tall is genetic; comedy is a _skill.”_

“ _Bro,”_ Hendery says, pretending to sniff and wipe a tear from the corner of his eye - and then immediately following it by beaming and leaning over the table to give Lucas a high-five. To be fair, he only winces a little bit when he realizes that Lucas’s hands are greasy from the fried chicken, and Ten is pretty sure that the face he makes is for comedic effect.

_Honestly._ WayV is incapable of being serious for more than five minutes at a time.

Kun joins them only a moment later, and the conversation pivots to how their schedule went that day as Xiaojun and Yangang emerge from their shared room, picking on each other already, and Winwin drops into the last empty seat on Lucas’s other side. Something settles in Ten’s chest at seeing all of them gathered together, seated around their slightly-too-small table to eat a way-too-late dinner and banter despite their exhaustion.

This is the best part of the holidays, in Ten’s opinion - just getting to sit down and have a meal. Despite how busy they get, it means a lot that they make time for this. The food itself matters less than who he’s having it with.

Not that any of them could ever say no to fried chicken.

Ten lets the chatter wash over him, content to listen and break in where he needs to - like insisting that tomatoes are _not_ fruit, duh, at least not in how you eat them, Ten would know - but otherwise just enjoying the atmosphere. Lucas’s playlist is actually really nice, the exact kind of chill that doesn’t interfere with their conversations, but has enough of a backbeat that it doesn’t put them to sleep.

Well, _more_ to sleep. Lucas might have to carry Winwin back to their room, if he ends up passing out partway through the meal again. Ten can see him yawning already from the other end of the table.

But it’s kind of the perfect end to a busy day. The chicken is fresh and crunchy and spicy; Ten can feel Louis’s tail twining between his feet below the table, ready for any bits of chicken that he’ll probably get, because they’re all softies at heart. Xiaojun and Lucas are comparing ideas for their next workout regiment, and Hendery and Yangyang are trying to convince Kun to try the latest game they’ve started playing in their downtime. Their overlapping voices are a balm in Ten’s tired state; being an idol is hard work, but there’s no one else he would rather have by his side to do it.

Besides - well.

Doing so much together through the fall makes Ten miss Johnny in these moments, too. It’s probably asking too much of the universe, to get this - his dumb, amazing, talented, funny members - _and_ the person he likes. Right? Between their schedules and being in two different units, it’s hard to find the time.

Ten loses himself in thought as he eats. It’s just so easy for him to imagine Johnny here, on nights like this. Johnny is the kind of person that gets along with everyone, makes anyone feel comfortable, at home. That’s part of why Ten likes him.

If he were here, Johnny would probably be trading jokes back and forth with Hendery, entertaining the whole group. Or maybe talking about music and composition with Kun, ideas for working together on a future track. Or, best of all - here at Ten’s side, enjoying a quiet moment of listening to everyone having fun, his knee pressed against Ten’s under the table -

And then there’s a strange noise - not quite like a record skip, or radio static, but some kind of _blip -_ and right in the middle of Lucas’s soft lofi jazz, the music changes.

Ten looks up, one finger in his mouth as he licks it free of sauce. This is - a syncopated, crooning bassline and jaunty xylophone pecking out high notes, a slow, vintage swing that takes a moment to register. Ten can see the confusion reflected on everyone’s face, a collective frown as the conversation dies with the weird skip to music they don’t recognize.

And then: _Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree - for me -_

Yangyang lets out an unholy screech, and it’s all chaos from there.

“Oh my _god,”_ Xiaojun groans, forehead hitting the table with a soft _thunk._ “Xuxi, why is this song on your playlist?!”

“It’s not!” Lucas scrabbles for his phone, hurriedly wiping off his greasy fingers so that he can tap at the screen. “I swear, I have no idea how it just started -”

Winwin and Hendery have already collapsed into each other, a steady stream of giggles that doesn’t let up the longer and longer it takes for Lucas to pause the music. Kun doesn’t even try to keep a straight face - he’s stopped chewing to hide his mouth with one hand, bent forward into the table, gasping with laughter.

“Lucas, come on!” Winwin teases, elbowing his roommate. “We didn’t know you were into this kind of music -”

“Yeah, Xuxi,” Hendery wheezes through his laughter, “don’t tell me this is a secret _kink_ , having a sugar daddy to buy you nice things for Christmas -”

“ _Noooo_!” Lucas moans, unable to keep the grin off his face as everyone teases him, desperately trying to pause the music with one-fingered jabs at the screen. “Nooooo, c’mon guys!”

Ten laughs - Lucas gets so adorably flustered, and so quickly; his ears are turning red as Hendery and Yangyang don’t let up in their ridiculous commentary.

“But aren’t you rich enough to buy yourself nice things, Xuxi?” Xiaojun says, once he’s recovered enough to speak. “I mean, we all are -”

“It’s the _principle_ of the thing,” Hendery grins, gesturing vaguely. “Why buy something for yourself when you can have Christmas Daddy get it for you?”

Yangyang nearly howls with laughter. At least, Ten _thinks_ it’s laughter - he sounds like he’s mostly in pain. “Oh my god, it’s _Father Christmas!_ Or Santa Claus - not _Christmas Daddy_! _”_

“Christmas Daddy, Santa Baby…” Ten tilts his head one way and then the other, smirking. “Do you think you’ve been a good boy this year, Xuxi?”

“ _Ten,”_ Kun admonishes, but even he can’t stop smiling.

Lucas groans again, pink-faced and still trying to squint down at his phone, but he’s nearly crying with laughter. The volume of his pained noises has only increased with the incessant teasing.

Ten finally takes pity on him; he leans into Lucas’s space, carefully swiping through his apps and finding the pause button to put them all out of their misery. But - huh. The pause button doesn’t work. Well, there’s one way to get the music to stop: Ten holds down the power button until Lucas’s iPhone shuts off completely.

Problem solved.

The blessed silence that follows is broken by the loud sound of their continued laughter, which doesn’t stop just because the music has. Lucas yells wordlessly in triumph, falling forward onto the table in relief, face in his hands.

“God, thank you,” Kun says, wiping at the corner of his eye with a knuckle. “Oh, man - I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.”

“What even _happened,”_ Winwin asks, peering down at the dark screen of Lucas’s phone as he chews; Lucas still has his head buried in his hands, making a high-pitched sound that keeps trailing off into giggles. “Did your phone get possessed?”

“By the Christmas spirit?” Yangyang waggles his eyebrows.

Ten swats at Yangyang for his awful joke, wrinkling his nose in Yangyang’s direction; Yangyang only blows him a kiss, grinning all the while. The brat.

But it is strange. The music did just change out of nowhere, from the chill beats that Ten recognized as Lucas’s typical relaxation music to - well. _That._

Ten fiddles with the earrings in his ear, thinking. It’s one thing for them to hear more and more holiday music because that’s what’s playing on the radio, or in stores, or whatever. Because it’s December, and there’s a normal amount of that to be expected. It’s a different thing when Christmas music decides to invade your life just _because_.

And it’s happened - what, twice now? If Ten’s also counting the moment at practice a few days ago, when he was stretching. It’s more or less the same story, too; he’d been listening to music, mind wandering or whatever - and then out of nowhere, holiday songs.

_Romantic_ holiday songs.

Ten frowns. Huh. And there have been several times now that he’s been out with Johnny and they heard holiday songs on repeat, even _before_ the two instances in the last week with holiday music on someone’s phone - first his, and then Lucas’s.

_Something_ is going on, even if he can’t figure out what, exactly. And maybe it’s just a series of odd coincidences, but… the thought passes through Ten’s brain, and then he can’t shake it: maybe it has something to do with _him._

Ten is snapped out of his thoughts at the bright sound of laughter again, Hendery bursting out into giggles at the red-faced expression on Lucas’s face. Their teasing still hasn’t let up - and probably won’t for a while, knowing WayV.

“Come on,” Kun says, tugging at Yangyang’s sleeve and rolling his eyes at Yangyang’s barely-controlled giggles. “It was a glitch, it could have happened to anyone!”

“Oh, but it _didn’t,”_ Yangyang says, snickering, “it happened to our Giant Baby!”

“It’s all there in the name, huh,” Hendery pretends to scratch at his chin as if deep in thought. “Giant Baby, _Santa_ Baby…”

“Stoooop,” Lucas groans, grinning despite the warm flush on his cheeks. “Oh my god, my taste isn’t even that expensive! I buy my own shit!”

“What about Winwin’s Christmas gift from last year?” Ten says, smirking at Kun’s look of exasperation and the expression of surprise on Winwin’s face at being pulled into this. “ _Rings,_ Xuxi? That you wear everywhere? _That_ sounds like a pretty Santa Baby thing, if you ask me.”

It’s adding fuel to the fire - Ten knows it, and as the table erupts in noise, all he can do is giggle. Lucas flops backwards, hands over his face again and he shouts something that mostly makes him sound like a dying whale; Yangyang and Hendery are talking over each other in rapid-fire jokes, sending Kun and Xiaojun into tears of laughter again. Winwin - poor Winwin, more or less an innocent in all this - keeps alternating between his high-pitched giggle and cheerfully threatening the younger members, which is very Scorpio of him, in Ten’s opinion.

And Ten? Ten just basks in the atmosphere of his members having fun, enjoying the chaos and merriment that show no sign of stopping. For now, he munches on the last of the chicken and lets the conversation flow around him.

It’s almost enough to drown out that nagging voice in the back of his head that keeps telling him there’s something more to this music thing - more than there seems on the surface.

-❄-

As the week progresses, Ten can’t shake the feeling. There’s nothing specific he can pin it on, it’s just - it feels like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. For something else to _happen._

He just doesn’t know what it is.

They keep hearing holiday music even more frequently now - well, partly because WayV gets into the habit of putting Christmas music on in the background when they get home to the dorm - but in a normal way. In the non-invasive, non-glitchy, it’s-just-everywhere-during-Christmas way.

Ten would know; he’s actually paying attention now. Weirdly, it only makes him more nervous.

“Hey - your phone went back to normal, right?” he asks Lucas a day or so after the infamous Santa Baby Incident, when it’s just the two of them making a snack run.

Lucas’s cheeks tint pink, easily visible in the gray afternoon light - Ten can tell even with the mask pulled up over Lucas’s nose and mouth. “Oh, yeah! It did! That random song thing only happened once, thank god.”

“That’s good,” Ten says, bumping their shoulders together, grinning. “No shame, though. That one’s a classic.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Lucas giggles, a little strangled. His eyes crease as he smiles down at Ten. “Like most Christmas songs, I don’t mind hearing it once in a while. Well, when _I_ want to. I’m glad my phone’s not glitching like that _all_ the time.”

“Mm, that’s true.” Ten hums in thought, but Lucas doesn’t push for why he asked, content to fill the air between them with easy chatter about WayV’s annual gift exchange and holiday shopping. It’s not that Ten totally tunes Lucas out - he nods along and gives Lucas a few ideas for gifts for Hendery - but his mind is elsewhere.

There’s still something about it that doesn’t sit quite right.

On a whim, Ten texts Johnny the next day - because try as he might, he can’t help but think that the song glitch on their phones is somehow tied to the Christmas-music-on-repeat thing he keeps hearing when he and Johnny spend time together. It’s not that strange to check if it’s happening to anyone else, right?

Okay, maybe it’s a _little_ strange, but googling for answers hasn’t gotten him anywhere.

**[Ten]:** have you heard any more christmas songs stuck on repeat this year, btw?  
**  
[Johnny]:**!! now that you mention it... no  
**  
[Johnny]:** but if you want festive song recs u just gotta ask 😎  


He’s a little surprised that Johnny’s able to respond so fast - but Ten can’t stop the smile that takes over his face, even as he rolls his eyes. Thankfully he’s alone in the living room, lounging on the couch after a recording session; no one’s around to tease him about his stupidly fond expression.

Except Leon, who is curled up on his chest. Ten has to pause in scratching his chin to type a reply, but Leon doesn’t seem to mind too much.

**[Ten]:** thanks but no thanks lol - I already know all your christmas faves  
  
**[Ten]:** it's just weird that it happened a couple times  
**  
[Johnny]:** weird but good weird, right? at least until you get sick of hearing Mariah Carey  
**  
[Johnny]:** which i never will be  
  
**[Ten]:** I'm sick of that song by December 2nd but go off i guess  
**  
[Johnny]:** 😛😛  
**  
[Johnny]:** oh shit Ten  
**  
[Johnny]:** did u know there are 87 versions of baby it's cold outside on spotify  
**  
[Johnny]:** that's almost FIVE HOURS of the same song!!  


Well. That certainly is something. Ten doesn’t know if that’s better or worse than getting stuck listening to the _exact_ same version, like they were when they were out shopping.

**[Johnny]:** don't worry, I'll make you a playlist 😊😊  
  
**[Ten]:** Do Not. I would die.  
**  
[Johnny]:** of HOLIDAY CHEER  
**  
[Johnny]:** 🎄🎅🎁❄️🍬  
**  
[Johnny]:** honestly how is it different from listening to the same song over and over to learn the choreo?  


Ten bites his lip - Johnny’s got a point. But hearing _their_ music over and over doesn’t bother him as much as the Christmas music on repeat does, for some reason. There’s still something about it that feels... off.

**[Ten]:** I guess it isn't  
  
**[Ten]:** but speaking of christmas music and choreography  
  
**[Ten]:** are you gonna finally admit that you just want to record your own version of the Jingle Bell Rock scene or  
**  
[Johnny]:**!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
**  
[Johnny]:** TEN  


The conversation goes off the rails pretty quickly from there. But that’s no surprise, for the two of them. The thing is - while Ten can sometimes be a bit of a know-it-all, his intuition is usually pretty on point. And something about this situation has set off alarm bells in the back of Ten’s mind. The pieces are all there - well, maybe. He still isn’t quite seeing the whole picture.

Whatever it is, Ten can’t ignore the feeling that this has something to do with _him._ Like - him, Ten. Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul. He’s the common factor in every one of these situations.

It’s a crazy thought, and Ten feels a little crazy in that his mind keeps circling back to it as the week drags on.

He lays in bed at the end of a long, exhausting day of recording, a drama playing softly on his laptop as he turns it over and over in his mind, unable to sleep just yet.

Twice now he’s been in the room while a song has switched - out of _nowhere_ \- to a holiday song. And twice before that - well, Ten hadn’t been the one to notice at first, but Johnny pointed out that the Christmas songs were stuck on repeat.

But it’s the _holiday season._ Maybe it’s just… a thing that happens with technology, or something. Somehow. Whatever. That’s the most logical solution, at least, even if it’s a pretty weird series of coincidences.

This doesn’t feel like _just_ coincidence.

Ten frowns as he stares up at the ceiling, trying to sift back through his memories. The first two times he had been _with_ Johnny; in the practice room he’d been alone, but Johnny had texted him.

And then - what had happened at dinner the other day? The most prominent thing in his memory is, of course, the hilarious teasing about Lucas wanting to be a sugar baby. It had been fun before that, too, getting to sit down to a meal together, no matter how late into the night.

That’s right, Ten remembers now: he’d been thinking about how much fun it would be to have Johnny -

Ten sits bolt upright.

_Thinking about Johnny._ Being _with_ Johnny. Christmas music - _romantic_ Christmas music - playing on repeat.

That - that can’t be it, can it?

There’s no way; that would mean - Ten doesn’t know what it means. He clenches his fingers in the sheets balled in his lap, mind reeling. What do you even _call_ it, when suddenly you can control music with your brain?

No - not _control_ , exactly. Ten isn’t choosing what music starts to play. But from what has happened so far, it seems like… every time the music has switched, or started to loop, he’s been in the same room. And it’s not just any music, but Christmas music in particular; if that’s not what’s already playing, it switches in an instant. Or gets stuck on repeat.

And it’s not just when Ten thinks about anything, but when - but when he thinks about _Johnny._ His crush. His maybe-even-stronger-than-a-crush.

Oh, no.

How is it even _possible?_ Ten’s mind almost spins with it, a dizzying warmth flushing his face. It sounds a little ridiculous, even in his own head. But there’s no denying the facts of what’s happened so far, as much as it sounds like - like literal, honest-to-god _magic_.

That thought almost makes him laugh. Ten’s seen plenty of Christmas movies with the other Foreign Swaggers; this is _not_ how Christmas magic is supposed to work.

But actually… Ten’s eyes drift to where his phone is plugged in and charging on his nightstand. He’s pretty sure his earbuds are around here somewhere.

And there’s one easy way to test if this is real, or all in his head.

Ten pushes his laptop to the side and pats around the covers, feeling for his earbuds - he’s pretty sure they’re still caught in the sheets. Thank _god_ Hendery is out in the living room, hanging out with Lucas and Winwin doing who knows what. Ten knows he must look a little wild, pink-faced and wide-eyed and shuffling around in his bed.

He certainly _feels_ a little wild, entertaining this theory. _Magic?_ There’s no way anyone will believe him, if this is what’s actually happening.

When he finally finds his earbuds, Ten slips them into his ears with nervous fingers and reaches for his phone. It only takes a few moments for him to tap into Spotify and choose a random playlist - though he hesitates with his finger over the play button. What if this _isn’t_ what’s actually happening?

What if it _is?_

Either way, Ten has to find out. He presses play before his nerves get the best of him again.

Troye Sivan fills Ten’s ears, but he can barely concentrate on the music over the thump of his heart in his chest, pounding like a drum against the inside of his ribs. Now all he can do do is let the music play and... wait.

Ten swallows thickly. This is - this feels a little crazy, to think that something’s going to happen. He can’t even articulate what he _expects_ to happen, exactly. Will it be just like before, a hitch in the sound as something new starts to play? Does Ten have to think about something specific besides just _Johnny_ in order to trigger it?

Admittedly, that’s never hard; it’s not like it’s a _chore_ to think about Johnny. Ten’s actually never considered it before, how much he must think about Johnny on a given day. They’re best friends, and they’re lucky enough to be promoting the same album and performing the same song together right now.

Maybe that’s part of why it feels like wanting more with Johnny is asking too much. Ten doesn’t want to push his luck; it’s been a dream come true just getting to work so much with Johnny. Even if Ten does have to endure teasing from his members on how heart-eyes he can be, his one-track mind full of _Johnny, Johnny, Johnny_ -

And just like that, it happens. Troye Sivan cuts off mid-word, the sound going dead - and after a blip of weird static, something entirely different comes on.

It’s an upbeat thump of a strummed bass, overlaid with a hand-clapped beat and rhythmic guitar. Honestly, it sounds more like pop than a holiday song, from the quick tempo and clean sound . Ten’s never heard it before, but it’s stupidly catchy; his interest is immediately hooked as he waits through the intro, tense, listening for the lyrics.

_The snow on the ground, the love in the air, the sleigh bells are ringin’ - this is what it’s all about…_

Warmth floods through Ten’s entire body - and when he looks down at his phone screen, he groans aloud.

It’s a Christmas song, all right. By the fucking _Jonas Brothers._

Goddamnit.

Ten collapses back against his bed, hitting his pillow with a quiet _oof._ He lets the music wash over him, more instruments layering and the melody building as Nick Jonas sings about warm fires and Christmas cheer and _so long as you’re with me, it’s always the time of the year!_

This is definitely a Christmas song - theory confirmed.

Ugh, and it’s actually pretty cute - one that Ten wouldn’t mind hearing over and over, if he really had to. He squints down at his phone again, resisting the urge to tap his fingers along to the beat. If it weren’t for the words - okay, and the sleigh bells - it would be just a fun, flirty pop-rock track he’d actually put on a feel-good playlist.

_You make every day feel like it’s Christmas._ Yeah, that pretty much sums up Ten’s feelings about Johnny.

Ten sighs and scrubs over his face with his palms, groaning. This is _insane._ Is he really going to believe that for some weird, magical reason, whenever he thinks about Johnny, Christmas music starts to play? Or gets stuck on repeat? It’s _ridiculous._ Ten wouldn’t believe it, if he hadn’t just more or less confirmed it for himself.

And it’s not just holiday music that keeps coming on - oh, no. It’s _romantic_ holiday music. Music about snuggling up in the cold and wanting love for Christmas and longing to be home together for the holidays.

Like Ten needs even _more_ of a reminder about his feelings for Johnny.

Ugh. And he’s successfully triggered the curse, even if he doesn’t know how it works beyond that. How is Ten supposed to stop thinking about Johnny _now,_ when all this song makes him think of is how warm he feels inside when Johnny’s eyes find his, how Johnny’s smile always seems to light up the room -

Yeah. This is all that’s gonna be on his mind for a while.

How long does it last, anyway? Ten had been able to pause Lucas’s phone the other day, but if the music had kept going, would it have been Santa Baby for a few more repeats? A few more _hours?_ As long as Ten kept thinking about Johnny?

The whole thing makes Ten’s brain hurt a little. And he _still_ can’t believe he’s seriously entertaining the idea that this is real.

At least he knows the basic mechanics of how the curse works, though it is pretty inconvenient. Even when Ten’s not listening to music for fun, he’s around music all the time. He’s an _idol_ for a living, after all. He needs to listen to music to sing, to learn choreography and dance, during performances and filming and -

Oh, fuck.

Ten lets his hands fall to his sides with his sudden realization, frowning up at the twinkling fairy lights he and Hendery strung along the walls. He needs to be able to listen to music _all the time_ \- and yeah, okay, he thinks about Johnny all the time, too.

This does not bode well. If the curse really works like Ten thinks it does, then he’s going to be hearing romantic Christmas music day in and day out. Nonstop, twenty-four seven holiday love. Because Ten _can’t_ stop listening to music when it’s a core part of his job, and he _really_ doubts he can stop himself from thinking about Johnny Suh.

So it really boils down to one thing: Ten is cursed.

December has suddenly gotten a lot more complicated.

-❄-

The thing is - the thing is, a lot of the time it should be easy to _not_ think about Johnny. Like, theoretically, at least.

Ten wakes up groggy, blinking sleepily as his phone alarm goes off. It nearly vibrates off the nightstand as he lets it ring and ring, wishing he could fall back asleep. It turns out it’s pretty hard to turn your brain off, after a revelation like _I am cursed to hear romantic Christmas music whenever I think about my crush._

How the hell could Ten _not_ think about it late into the night?

But dance practice waits for no man - and WayV doesn’t either. If Ten doesn’t get his ass out of bed, he _knows_ that Kun will sic Xuxi - or maybe Xiaojun, now that he has the muscle - to literally manhandle him into the van to head to practice. He’s seen it happen to Yangyang before after a late night of gaming.

Ten sighs, resisting the urge to flop onto his belly and press his face into the pillow and just _yell_. Because that does seem like an appropriate response at this point.

There’s the muffled noise of moving blankets from Hendery’s bed, followed by a yawn. “Are you going to turn that off?”

Ten sighs again, more dramatically this time - mostly for performance reasons - and paws at his phone half-heartedly. “Do I have to get out of bed?”

“Probably,” Hendery sits up and stretches, swinging his feet down to the floor. “Gotta go get that bread. Or nectar, or whatever. Gimme that gimme that, et cetera.”

Ten lets his eyes flutter closed on a groan. “If you start singing right now, before I’ve had coffee…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hendery laughs, voice rough from sleep. He pats Ten on the head as he goes by, chuckling when Ten pushes into the contact like a cat. “You’ve got like twenty minutes, so don’t just fall asleep again.”

Ugh. Ten peeks out over the covers, squinting in the pale winter light. It’s always harder to get up when it’s so cold out, especially when he could stay snuggled in bed all day. If Louis and Leon were actually in bed with him, it would be a done deal. Practice cancelled, cuddling mandatory.

Unfortunately - or fortunately, maybe - they’ve abandoned him for the prospect of breakfast. So Ten definitely has to get out of bed if he wants to be on time.

Well. Now that he’s awake and thinking about _it,_ there’s no way he would be able to fall asleep again, anyways.

It’s basically all luck that on their way over to dance practice, no one turns music on in the van. Everyone’s still in that early-morning fog, scrolling through social media on their phones or catching a few more minutes of sleep, like Lucas always does on morning car rides. It’s a quiet, peaceful affair - the opposite of WayV at night, Ten thinks to himself in mild amusement - but who knows how long _that_ is going to last.

It’s WayV, after all.

And Ten is right - his members are _much_ more awake by the time they stroll into the practice room, caffeine hitting their system in time for them to work off some energy with high-intensity choreography.

Hopefully. If Ten doesn’t fuck it all up by thinking about - _you know._

“You okay?” Kun asks, giving Ten a once-over from where they sit, stretching. Kun does a side-bend, grasping around the sole of his worn sneaker and looking up at Ten with that soft, parental expression of his. “You seem kind of… on edge.”

“Who, me?” Ten hadn’t been able to stop bouncing his leg for the entire ride here, and now he can’t seem to shake off the nerves. _Nerves._ At regular fucking _dance practice._ “Just too much energy, I guess. I slept kind of weird. I’ll be fine once we get into it.”

“Okay,” Kun says hesitantly, but he nods and turns to concentrate on his own stretches. Ten sighs in relief; Kun’s one of the few people who can see through him on most days, but they’ve established enough trust that Kun will take his words at face-value. At least the first time. “Think you have enough energy to keep _that one_ in check?”

Kun jerks his head in the direction of - well, who else? Yangyang has apparently challenged Hendery to some kind of _who can do the highest kicks_ competition. Even from here, Ten can tell it's objectively unfair - Yangyang has the longest legs of anyone in NCT, at least for his height. He’s built like a bendy straw.

Also, Yangyang and Hendery are both _shouting._

Ten squints at them from across the room. “I don’t remember having that much energy when I was twenty.”

“It’s the espresso,” Kun says solemnly, and before Ten can do anything but laugh, they’re being called to round up as practice begins.

Ten can’t help it; he fidgets as they get started, trying to do his best to intensely concentrate on the choreography. As soon as the music starts playing, he’s on the spot; he can’t let himself think about - the thing he’s not supposed to think about. Just in case.

Fuck. He didn’t think that his every thought centered around Johnny all day every day, but now when he really _shouldn’t_ think about him, Johnny’s the only thing on his mind.

Even if Ten _isn’t_ entirely convinced that he’s at the heart of his weird music curse… thing, then - well. Better safe than sorry. Especially if being wrong means being subjected to even more Mariah Carey.

Ten brushes his hair back away from his face and licks his lips, resolved to just stay focused on the moves and the music that’s _supposed_ to be playing. They’re still working on Nectar, and he’s grateful for it - partly because it’s a very danceable song with great choreography, and partly because it’s difficult enough that hopefully - _hopefully -_ his mind won’t stray to… other things.

And you know what? That’s actually what happens.

Ten loses himself in the dance, in moving his body to the beat and learning the forms, repeated until they have it down pat. He has always thrown himself fully into dance because he loves it so much; learning choreography is always a joy, even when he’s dripping sweat and tired of repeating the same section of the chorus over and over again because none of them can get the footwork that sets up the spin right.

It just feels _good_ , a challenge to his mind and body, a way to connect with the music and express himself. When Ten is dancing, everything else fades into the background.

The music doesn’t skip or glitch or change, not even once.

Ten feels extra triumphant when he realizes that his plan worked, when they break for lunch two hours later. He’s long since removed his sweatshirt and mostly soaked through his tee, but whatever. He feels that warm, tired satisfaction that comes with learning something difficult and finally getting it right, and the clarity that takes over after a solid workout.

Maybe he _did_ just have some nervous energy to work off. Ten smiles as he gulps down some water, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Mission accomplished. He hadn’t thought about… the thing. His concentration hadn’t wavered at all.

And honestly, it hadn’t even been that _hard._

The second half of practice is much like the first - and bolstered by the confidence that he won’t fuck up the music, Ten is able to enjoy it even more. He lets himself have fun, joking with his members when they break to start over from the top, laughing when Hendery trips or Xiaojun grunts extra loud to keep their spirits up as they near the end.

Yeah. So maybe he’s cursed. But Ten can work with this. If he can survive dance practice - where music playing is basically a requirement - then he can figure out anything else.

-❄-

Well. Maybe that’s famous last words.

Because yeah, at practice it isn’t a problem. Ten is thoroughly engaged in the dancing and the song they’re learning, and his mind doesn’t stray into dangerous territory even once.

Coming home to the dorms after a long day, where there’s nothing to do but rest and relax and finally think about all those things he’s been trying _not_ to think about? That’s a different story.

Sometime during the drive back, Johnny texts Ten. Because of course he does. They’re best friends and they text all the time. Ten stumbles a little getting out of the van because his eyes are glued to his phone, cheeks warm as he reads over Johnny’s messages from the day. They’re used to having conflicting schedules and not being able to reply to each other until hours later - it’s just that. Uh. Wow.

Ten knows on a conscious level that he and Johnny text all the time. Somehow he doesn’t realize how literal _all the time_ is until thinking about Johnny is actually sort of a… problem.

Fuck, he still can’t quite believe this is happening.

Ten frowns at himself, following the tired footsteps of his members up the stairs to their dorm, barely feeling the treads under his feet. He’s not the kind of person who sees a crush as a _problem,_ per se. It’s a thing that happens naturally sometimes, when you spend enough time with another person. And have the same sense of humor, and amazing chemistry. And a friendship that leaves all of your other friendships in the dust, because there’s no one else you rather do nothing _or_ anything with on the entire planet, whether that’s chasing each other barefoot on the beach, or laying side by side, talking late into the night about your hopes and dreams, or -

_God._

Anyway. Before this _thing_ started happening, Ten didn’t think his feelings for Johnny were a bad thing. They’ve always been close, even if Ten has never been able to tell if Johnny could see him as something more. But now… now there’s a little knot in his chest at the sight of Johnny’s name.

Marinating in his own unrequited feelings is one thing. But subjecting everyone else to it by way of obnoxious Christmas music -

Ugh.

Ten doesn’t know exactly how far the curse extends yet; he’s only just confirmed it himself. But since they’re back in the dorms and left to their own devices, he may as well try to figure a little more of it out.

It’s not like he can really help it, either way. Ten really should read and respond to the texts Johnny had sent throughout the day. As usual, the messages cover a range of topics: songs on the radio Johnny heard that he thinks Ten would like, what shenanigans the fifth floor dorm is getting up to today, asking if Ten has eaten yet, a selfie with Donghyuck during a practice break.

Not for the first time, the deluge of messages from Johnny makes something in Ten’s chest flutter pleasantly. He flops belly-first down on his bed - careful not to dislodge Louis, who as usual has curled up in the blankets near Ten’s pillow. Does Johnny have any idea what he’s doing to Ten? With these little notes over the course of the day, every time Johnny thinks about him?

And usually, that’s _nothing_ compared to how many times Ten thinks about Johnny. Which is _entirely the problem,_ given the nature of Ten’s sparkly-new curse.

“I survived one day,” Ten tells Louis, reaching out and scratching between the cat’s ears and chuckling when Louis nuzzles into the contact, tilting his head to let Ten scratch his chin. With a smile, Ten snuggles closer, pushing his face into Louis’s soft fur. “Think I can do it again?”

His voice comes out muffled, and Louis gives a little chirp in complaint because Ten has, in fact, stopped petting him for exactly three seconds.

Ten smiles wryly and pulls away so he can resume mandatory kitty scratchies. “Yeah, me neither.”

He lounges in bed like that for a while, texting Johnny back and cuddling with Louis - and then Leon, when he wanders in and realizes his brother is getting all of the attention. It’s not long before Ten resigns himself to the fact that yeah, he may as well do one more test to make sure that the curse is real. He’s thinking about Johnny already; he just doesn’t have the music playing to verify it.

Ten sits up with his back against the headboard, scooping Louis into his lap and stroking him idly as he opens up Spotify again. He has his earbuds in - it’s easy enough to tap into whatever playlist and see what happens.

“Here goes nothing,” he mutters to Louis. Louis ignores him in favor of continuing his bath, but that’s fine. He doesn’t move from his place in Ten’s lap.

Ten closes his eyes, tries to let his thoughts drift as he presses play. It’s a catch-22, trying _not_ to think of the thing you _know_ you’re not supposed to think about. So Ten focuses on what he can remember of the meditation techniques Kun told them about a while ago - concentrating on the sensations around him, rather than the thoughts streaming through his head.

Can’t hurt to try, right?

He keeps his eyes closed and breathes deep, petting through the soft fur at Louis’s shoulders, wiggling his bare feet against his flannel sheets. Ten can hear the faint sounds of conversation drifting in from the living room, over the music - _normal_ music - streaming through his earbuds. It’s hard to tell what his members are talking about, but it sounds like the weather, maybe holiday plans. Typical WayV - ready to jump at any opportunity to celebrate something, especially if an outing for food is involved. Or costumes, apparently.

Ten bites back a smile as the memories of Halloween take over his thoughts. Maybe they could do something similar for Christmas, at least for a vlive? There are probably plenty of options for the seven of them. They could do festive hats at the least, even if they don’t go as all-out as entire costumes.

When he had been out shopping with Johnny last week, they’d seen all sorts of red-and-white hats and reindeer headbands and the like. Johnny had looked particularly cute when he put on the antlers to make Ten laugh, because the caramel-brown still more or less matched the grown-out blonde of his hair, and -

Oh.

The bright sound of sleigh bells and a brass section interrupts Ten’s thoughts, and he heaves a sigh as he opens his eyes again, looking down at his phone. He lets the song play - why not, at this point - through the brassy intro and twangy guitar.

_Hang all the mistletoe, I’m gonna get to know you better - this Christmas…_

That answers that question. And, as a cherry on top, a message from Johnny appears as Ten stares down at his phone.

It’s ridiculous, how a little rush of heat settles in Ten’s belly at just the sight of Johnny’s name on the screen. Even when the message is only a string of ridiculous emojis, or a meme, Ten never gets tired of their conversations.

But that’s what liking someone is, right?

“Doomed,” Ten says to Louis, who looks up at him with those big, innocent blue eyes. Louis knows nothing about unrequited pining, and Ten kind of envies him. “I’m cursed and doomed, Louis.”

Ten doesn’t pause the music, even when it starts to loop. It wouldn’t have been his first choice, but hey - it _is_ December. The Christmas vibe is atmospheric in its own way, and it soothes the sting of being cursed, a little bit.

Then again,Ten’s always been a sucker for romance.

Eventually Louis moves off his lap, cuddling against Leon, so Ten takes about twenty pictures of the two of them before wandering out into the kitchen to grab a late-night snack and see what the rest of his members are up to.

It’s no surprise to Ten to see that the noise currently coming from the living room involves Hendery and Xiaojun and Yangyang - all yelling over some game they’re all playing together - so Ten just shakes his head and keeps walking, shuffling into the kitchen in his socked feet to make tea. The Christmas music isn’t so bad when he’s the only one affected by it; it has him in kind of a cozy mood, actually, and Ten hums to himself as he pulls out a mug.

He better not get this music stuck in his head, though. Yangyang may not have spilled the beans on Ten’s Christmas music thing yet - under threat of violence from Ten himself - but there’s no denying it, if someone hears what he’s listening to.

_Or_ if Ten accidentally activates the curse again when they’re music playing that the whole group can hear. He’s accepted that the curse is real - so Ten knows what he needs to do. He’s just gotta keep his Johnny feelings under wraps when there’s music playing. _No_ daydreaming and _no_ romantic thoughts equals _no_ musical hijacking by Christmas tunes.

Put like that, it’s actually pretty simple. And he did make it work at dance practice today, when he immersed himself in the choreography. He’s just gotta do that… all the time, not just at practice.

Easier said than done when you have a crush like Ten’s.

Ten slumps against the counter as he switches on the kettle and waits for it to boil, a slow rumble that builds in volume. Ten swipes through instagram, and then weibo, and then twitter, trying to distract himself as the song repeats a third time, and the starting chords to _This Christmas_ fill his ears.

Okay, maybe this is going to be harder than it seems. All these lyrics about _trimming the tree together_ and _your eyes outshine the town_ and, god, _mistletoe -_ it’s all too easy to let his imagination run and picture doing all those things with Johnny.

Ten snorts at himself. His self-control is apparently non-existent in the face of _romance._

Winwin wanders into the kitchen in his slippers as Ten’s pouring his tea, passing Ten with a pat to the hip to get a cup out of the cabinets.

“Hey, Winwinnie?” Ten says, almost to his own surprise.

Winwin hums as he reaches up to the high shelf, glancing down at Ten when he doesn’t immediately continue. “What’s up?”

Ten bites his lip. “Do you… believe in curses?”

Winwin blinks, his eyes going wide for a moment, and he tilts his head adorably. “Ah? Curses, Ten-ge?”

Ten feels his ears heating, and he breaks eye contact to turn back to his tea, fussing with the tea bag just to have something to do with his hands. God, why did he bring it up at all?! At least Winwin isn’t as likely as, say, _Yangyang_ to go and tell the rest of WayV about it immediately.

Then again, Winwin can be subtly sneaky, too. It’s the Scorpio in him.

“I don’t know,” Ten finally says, exhaling heavily. “You’ve never experienced, like, weird coincidences all around the same time, or anything like that?”

Winwin, bless him, just gives Ten that slightly-confused smile he tends to have when he has no idea how to respond. “Hah, did you start a new drama or something, Ten-ge? Or do you think Hendery is pranking you?”

“Forget I said anything,” Ten purses his lips, trying to ignore Winwin’s puzzled expression as he curls a hand around his mug and beats a hasty retreat out of the kitchen. He can feel Winwin’s gaze on his back as he goes, and his cheeks flush.

Fuck. He probably has less than a week before _that_ comes back to bite him, damnit.

If Ten even _survives_ that long with this god-forsaken curse. Donny Hathaway keeps crooning away in his ear, and as Ten sets down his tea and settles back in bed to keep texting with Johnny, he has a feeling that that isn’t going to change anytime soon.

-❄-

Of course, in the end Ten can’t help it: it keeps happening. And the excuses for _why_ it could be happening feel like they’re getting flimsier and flimsier.

Because there are only so many times that a phone can glitch when someone’s got it hooked up to the speakers in the dorm, or that a radio station would jokingly be playing the same holiday song over and over on their way home from a schedule. The first time _that_ happens it ends up on Instagram, because the entirety of WayV bursts into song when _Text Me Merry Christmas_ comes on the radio, shouting their lungs out even though they’re running on fumes after just finishing a full day of rigorous practice.

Well, maybe _because_ they’re running on fumes after finishing a full day of rigorous practice.

Unsurprisingly, Hendery’s the one who starts it - but Xiaojun quickly jumps in, willing to take any excuse to belt out a song. It devolves as it typically does into a sing-along that’s mostly, well, _noise_. Lucas is particularly loud, given his love for _Frozen;_ he doesn’t let the fact he only knows half the words stop him. It’s _hilarious._

And _still_ all Ten can think about is Johnny, Johnny, Johnny.

Johnny texts him later about it, too, having caught the tail-end of Yangyang’s Instagram live where they were singing along on the third - or was it fourth? - repeat. At least the fact that all of them were making so much noise means it wasn’t _super_ super obvious that the song was playing over and over.

**[Johnny]:** and u wouldn't let me sing Mariah Carey at the mall!!!!  
**  
[Johnny]:** traitor  


Ten’s helpless to the grin that takes over his face as he types back, thankful that the dim street lights aren’t bright enough to reveal his pink cheeks to his members.

**[Ten]:** if you seriously think that i can stop hendery and yangyang from doing anything, you don’t know them very well  
**  
[Johnny]:** they’re ur sons, they listen to you  
**  
[Johnny]:** but i see how it is, playing favorites  


Ten rolls his eyes at the screen. 

**[Ten]:** oh please, of course you're my favorite  


He ignores the pleasant swoop in his stomach when Johnny texts back a string of inane blushing emojis.

**[Johnny]:** 😳😳😊😊  
**  
[Johnny]:** well dont tell the rest of wayv that or theyll get jealous  
**  
[Johnny]:** we’re supposed to have group loyalty or smthn   


Well, there’s a difference between being loyal to his subunit and being in love with his best friend, in Ten’s opinion. But that’s probably neither here nor there.

Ten keeps texting as the van comes to a stop, wincing when he hops out into the chilly night air. It’s gotten so cold that he can see his breath in the half-light, and he hustles into the dorm on Winwin’s heels, shoulders pulled up to his ears. Johnny had warned him that he’d need a scarf.

**[Ten]:** well if they want me to like them more, the can stop singing like banshees  
  
**[Ten]:** if they want my attention, they'll have to get in line  
**  
[Johnny]:** 😁  


God, Ten is so, so fucked.

-❄-

Ten lasts about a week before he tells someone else about the curse.

He doesn’t _want_ to tell anyone, but at this point things are getting a little absurd. If he’s _not_ cursed - unlikely at this point, in Ten’s opinion - then WayV is truly experiencing the worst coincidental technical glitches in the history of modern technology.

If he _is_ cursed -

Well, then Ten is _cursed._ And as much as the entire situation is mortifying, it would be nice to have someone else around who can sympathize with what he’s going through. Besides - sooner or later, one of his members is going to figure it out, and Ten doesn’t want to leave that to chance. For all that he acts like a kid brother Yangyang is surprisingly astute, and his lack of filter makes him a potential liability on a _good_ day.

Especially since they’ve all gotten to know Johnny since the promotions of the 2020 album.

So really, Ten’s hand is forced by fate. More than that - he just has to _tell_ someone, make sure that he’s not just imagining this. Someone that isn’t Johnny, of course, even if he would be Ten’s first choice for a secret in any other circumstance.

Love just makes a man desperate.

Ten gets his chance a few days after the single-along livestream, when they have a Friday evening off to relax around the dorm for once - a pleasant surprise in their schedule after so much busy-ness. Kun, Yangyang and Lucas go on a walk to pick up takeout while Winwin and Xiaojun nap; Hendery decides, in the meantime, that it’s the perfect opportunity to start decorating their dorm for the holiday.

“It’s already, like, nine days into December,” he says to Ten, shuffling boxes around in the living room so that he can get to wherever they haphazardly buried their decorations last January. Ten has no idea where most of it ended up. “I can’t believe we haven’t put anything up yet!”

“Stores and stuff just decorate obnoxiously early,” Ten says, biting his lip so that he doesn’t grin at how Hendery looks. Hendery is by no means short, but he’s still ridiculously dwarfed by the pile of boxes he’s unearthed in his search. It doesn’t help that the sweater Hendery’s wearing - pink, of course - is fashionably two sizes too big.

Like Ten’s one to talk, though. He’d steal half of Johnny’s wardrobe if he could; there’s something just so _cozy_ about an oversized sweatshirt.

And, well. Ten would take any opportunity to wear something that belongs to Johnny.

“Uh, and it’s _awesome,”_ Hendery replies, pulling Ten back into the conversation. He pries the lid off a box and lights up when he paws through the contents - from where Ten’s seated on the couch, all he can see is a _mountain_ of silver garland. “What, you don’t like Christmas decorations?”

Ten scoffs. “Of _course_ I like Christmas decorations, Hendery. I bought at least half of what’s there, you know.”

“Good, that means you won’t mind helping me start to put it up,” Hendery decides, waggling his eyebrows at Ten. “C’mon, we can at least get some of these lights up around the windows before everybody gets back. We can do the tree after dinner. And - oh! We can put on some music! Johnny was telling me the other day about this wintery lo-fi playlist he found -”

Ah. Ten sits up slowly, cradling his mug in both hands and trying not to be too obvious about how _both_ of those things - the prospect of putting on music and the mere mention of Johnny’s name - have put him immediately on edge. “Um. About that.”

Hendery looks up from the box, hands already half-tangled in colorful lights and strands of garland. “About what? The lights?”

“Not the lights,” Ten hedges, wincing as he mentally wrestles with the prospect of… actually telling Hendery. He’d told himself that he would; he’s gotta get this curse business off his chest _somehow._ All things considered, Hendery isn’t a bad choice. They’re _roommates,_ after all. As far as secret-keeping goes, Hendery is surprisingly loyal.

Also, if Hendery spills, Ten can pretty easily exact some kind of revenge. He knows where Hendery sleeps. Like, literally.

Anyway. Hendery’s eyebrows keep climbing as Ten remains silent, trying to decide exactly how to approach telling him about his… situation.

“You’re being even stranger than usual, Ten-ge,” Hendery says with an uneasy smile that he’s _totally_ playing up on purpose. Ten reaches across the coffee table between them to ruffle Hendery’s faded pink hair. “Hey!”

Ten snorts at Hendery’s whining. “Listen, I’m going to tell you something that’s a little weird, and you can’t tell anyone else, okay?”

“Okay… ” Hendery says slowly, patting his hair back into place. “Is this about your thing with Johnny?”

“It’s - wait, what thing with Johnny?” Ten frowns. “Well, it’s sort of - no, there’s no _thing_ with - ugh! Are you gonna be able to keep a secret from the rest of WayV, or not?”

Something in Hendery’s face softens, and he obediently moves the box off his lap to sit cross-legged on the floor. Ten doesn’t want to think about what that means about the energy he’s giving off right now. “Of course, Ten-ge. If it’s important, and you want to tell me.”

“Okay,” Ten puts his mug down and runs a hand through his hair. And then he stands, crossing his arms, and paces towards the window. And back again. Hendery’s eyes follow him the whole time, and out of the corner of his eye, Ten can see him start to smile. “Um. Okay.”

“Take your time,” Hendery says breezily. “You have all the time in the world, Ten-ge. Or at least until Xiaojun or Winwin wakes up. Or everybody else comes back and _then_ wakes them up. But I’ll be here all night, if -”

Ten sighs and forces himself to stand still, rocking back on his heels. “Oh, hush. It’s just - uh. It’s gonna be hard to believe.”

“I’ve heard Yangyang’s story about his amnesia surgery dream that made him audition for NCT,” Hendery says, playing with the hem of his sweater in his lap and grinning up at Ten. “Seriously. Hit me.”

Well, nothing for it, then: “I’m cursed.”

There’s a beat of silence where they look at each other, and Hendery tilts his head. “Like…?”

“Yeah, like definitely cursed,” Ten says, “Pretty sure about it, yeah.”

“Cursed _how?”_ Hendery asks, “And since _when_? I haven’t noticed anything odd happening lately with you besides, like, the usual.”

“Shut up,” Ten pouts, but a smile tugs at the corner of his lips despite himself. “Since the end of November, I think? I don’t know exactly when, because I didn’t notice it was happening right away. And it’s a curse where - where I accidentally make Christmas music play, no matter what else is actually on. On repeat.”

Hendery considers this, scratching at the corner of his jaw. “Christmas music, huh. Besides it just playing everywhere all the time, because it’s _December_ and everything -”

“No, I’m _definitely_ cursed,” Ten says, flopping back onto the couch with a groan. “Believe me, I wasn’t sure at first either, but -”

“Oh, shit,” Hendery sits up, eyes widening. “Wait, so when we keep experiencing those glitches where Christmas music starts playing on someone’s phone, or the radio station has a song on blast six times in a row-”

“It’s me,” Ten admits, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands. He can feel his face starting to heat with embarrassment - but at least Hendery is taking him seriously.

“....Huh,” Hendery replies, brow furrowing as he thinks. “Huh. Do you know why it’s only happening sometimes, then? Because the music gets weird, like, once every few days, right? Most of the time at practice we’re fine, it’s just been other times… that…”

Hendery trails off, because Ten _has_ actually buried his face in his hands. Of course Hendery’s picked up on it, now that Ten has started to explain. _God._ Admitting to the curse is one thing, but admitting to his long-standing crush… ugh.

“So you _have_ figured out how the curse works,” Hendery guesses, and Ten nods. He lets his hands drop into his lap. “If you’re actually cursed, that is.”

Ten presses his lips together into a thin line. “Why don’t you get out your phone and we’ll test it and see?”

Unsurprisingly, Hendery brightens immediately at the idea, and Ten doesn’t repress his own wry smile. At least _someone_ is getting a little entertainment out of the situation - though he won’t be for long, considering what’s about to happen.

“Does it matter what I play?” Hendery asks, unlocking his phone with a swipe and flicking through the screens to get to his music app. Ten shakes his head and leans in so he can watch as Hendery selects his hip-hop playlist, turning up the volume as the track starts to play. Hendery sets his phone down in the middle of the coffee table between them, and then looks up at Ten, curious. “Okay, now what?”

“Now…” Ten licks his lips. “Ask me what you asked me before.”

Hendery laughs. “Which part? About the curse, or -”

Ten gives him a withering look, already feeling the heat working its way from his cheeks all the way to his ears. Damnit. “Not that. Before.”

“Ah.” The look on Hendery’s face becomes all too knowing, and _fuck,_ Ten hates being this obvious. “Okay. Ten - is this about your thing with Johnny?”

Johnny. This time, Ten doesn’t fight it when just the sound of Johnny’s name brings a rush of feeling through his body, a warmth that spreads from his chest all the way to his fingertips and makes his heart trip over itself. _Johnny._

He’d sent Ten another selfie today, this one with his long hair tied into an attempt at a _man-bun._ Donghyuck had helped him with it, apparently; as messy as it had been, with blond strands framing Johnny’s face, it was still a really good look on him. Ten saved it to his own phone immediately, even if in his reply he’d made a teasing comment about Johnny looking like a casually-dressed Korean Thor -

There’s a blip, a crash of static that interrupts Post Malone mid-verse. Hendery and Ten’s eyes lock as a swell of violins fills the living room, a soft tinkle of chimes echoing the melody on guitar before a male voice starts to sing: _I’ll be home for Christmas, you can plan on me..._

“Holy _shit,”_ Hendery breathes. “You weren’t kidding. Is this _Michael Bublé?”_

“That’s the other thing,” Ten says, nose wrinkling. “It’s always _romantic_ holiday music.”

“ _Bro,”_ Hendery says sympathetically, eyes going soft and wide. It’s probably weird how much better that makes Ten feel, but yeah. _Bro._

Ten slumps against the back of the couch, stretching his arms over his head. “So yeah, that’s it. So long as I’m concentrating hard enough on our choreography or recording or whatever, it’s fine. But it’s all Christmas music as soon as I think about… well, you know.”

Hendery leans forward and cups his chin with one hand, blowing his pink bangs out of his eyes. “Oh, I think I know.”

Ten can’t help but narrow his eyes at his roommate, taking in his coy smile. He knows that look. “What?”

“Well, I’m just thinking,” Hendery says, the smile not leaving his face, “you must have been working pretty hard the past few weeks not to let it happen at practice, especially once you figured it out. But the curse seems to trigger a lot at home, huh?”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Ten drags a hand down his face, feeling his cheeks flushing even more. He knows his feelings; he doesn’t need to be cross-examined by a nosy ‘99-liner. Ten has enough of those in his life, between Hendery and Xiaojun and Lucas _and Mark,_ when he’s unlucky - or lucky - enough to be in the same room with all of them.

“I mean,” Hendery continues, ignoring the frowny-faces Ten keeps making in his direction, “it’s _Christmas._ Don’t you think the universe is maybe sending you a message?”

Ten rolls his eyes. “A message about _what?”_

Hendery shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t know, isn’t Christmas the season of, like, being with the people you love? Maybe the universe is giving you a push to make it happen and finally conf- ”

“Hendery, I’m _cursed._ That’s all there is to it. There’s nothing more to this situation,” Ten says, trying to ignore the flutter of his heart at Hendery’s words. “And it’s only a matter of time before it happens in the middle of learning choreo or something, or during a _live._ There’s nothing romantic about _that_.”

Hendery only winces a little. “I mean, even _that_ isn’t as bad as Bella peeing during one of our streams. And that’s happened like, three times now.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Ten says. They sit in companionable silence for a few moments, both of them lost in thought as Michael Bublé croons about coming home for Christmas to the one he loves.

_Love._ What a pain.

“When’s it going to go back to normal?” Hendery wonders idly, tapping at his phone screen so it lights up again.

“Dunno,” Ten muses. “I haven’t really figured it all out yet. Usually the song keeps repeating long enough to be annoying, at least.”

Hendery hums in thought and leaves his phone where sits, still softly playing music. He claps his hands together decisively, fixing Ten with another grin. “Well! Since the mood is already set, d’you wanna help me sort these out and start decorating?”

Ten sighs, groaning in complaint as he winches himself upright and off the couch, shuffling over to Hendery’s overstuffed Christmas boxes. “Sure, why not? Maybe it’ll take my mind off… this thing.”

“You can say his name, you know,” Hendery quirks an eyebrow at him, elbow-deep in garland and glitter again. He passes Ten a tangled coil of fairy lights; god, they sure made a mess of all this when they took it down last year. It’s going to take Ten just as long to unravel as it will to hang up somewhere.

“Unless you want to hear Michael Bublé for an entire hour, I won’t, thanks,” Ten quips. He sits on the floor by Hendery’s feet, reaching over to plug in the strand of lights in his lap. Hey - at least they still work.

But Hendery just laughs, like he doesn’t realize that what Ten’s said is an actual honest-to-god _threat._ “Damn, that gone for him, huh? Oh, is that why we’ve been hearing so much Mariah Carey? _All I want for Christmas is -”_

Hendery makes a satisfying thump when Ten tackles him around the knees and drags him to the floor, both of them laughing even before Ten manages to ruck up Hendery’s sweatshirt and go in for the kill. Well, tickle.

By the time the rest of WayV returns home and Winwin and Xiaojun wander out of their respective rooms, Ten and Hendery have forged a tentative peace and have made pretty respectable progress in decorating their living room.

It’s not the neatest job - neither Hendery or Ten are really tall enough to properly string the lights over the tops of the windows like they wanted, though by god did they try. But it isn’t hard to convince everyone to pitch in, so they scarf down their dinners and set to decorating with all seven of them.

Somewhere in there, _I’ll Be Home for Christmas_ fades and the music switches to a regular rotation of holiday music, but Ten couldn’t say when. They’re too busy assembling their fake tree - and Ten’s having too much fun carefully hooking plastic ornaments on Winwin’s cute ears to notice.

-❄-

“Anybody else need a refill?” Ten asks, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face and scooping his empty water bottle off the floor.

The rest of WayV makes a variety of groans and sighs around him - a haphazard collection of spread-eagled and seated boys, exhausted from the dance practice they’re still only partway through. Ten grins at the sight of them; being an idol is challenging, but he loves moments like this. Shared misery always seems to make them feel closer as a group.

Winwin holds out his bottle for Ten to grab, not even opening his eyes. His head is pillowed against Kun’s muscular thigh, face flushed and hair sticking to his forehead. He’s still pretty adorable, even like this. “Thanks, Ten-ge.”

Yangyang and Xiaojun wave him off, so Ten hoists himself up and lightly jogs for the door, bottles in hand. He can feel the soreness in his muscles already, the complaint of his hips and knee making themselves known - but mostly it’s a good feeling, of having used his body and worked hard to get the moves right.

Gotta stay hydrated, though. Ten’s not surprised he emptied his bottle; dancing is thirsty work. And as cold as it is outside today, they’ve worked up a sweat in the couple of hours they’ve been dancing.

The music in the dance studio fades as Ten pushes through the half-open door - someone must have just let it keep playing, even when they paused for a break, and -

“Oh!”

Ten’s so caught up in his thoughts that he walks straight into someone in the hallway, face mashed into a broad chest and feet tangling dangerously. But then there’s a steadying hand on the small of his back and he regains his balance, sneakers squeaking harshly against the floor. His hands are trapped in the crush between their bodies. Oh, _god._

Ten swallows against the sudden thud of his heart in his throat, the little jolt of adrenaline that came with the surprise. He looks up to apologize, and -

And Johnny’s grinning down at him, eyes creased in amusement.

“Oh,” is what Ten says again, instead of an actual apology. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Johnny says, looking _far_ more composed than Ten suddenly feels. Like - like fully dressed in a button-up and maroon blazer kind of composed, hair combed and pulled back rather than stuffed under one of his customary winter beanies. His earring today is a diamond stud. He has two buttons undone, and Ten is close enough to his throat to bite.

Suddenly, Ten is even thirstier than he was three seconds ago.

“Come here often?” Johnny jokes, when Ten can only stare up at him, wide-eyed. He looks _so good,_ what the fuck; what is he doing dressed liked this over here by the dance practice rooms? Johnny’s hand is so big against the curve of his back, and Ten’s only wearing a thin, sweat-damp tank, so he can _feel_ the heat from Johnny’s palm -

Oh, fuck. Ten is _gross,_ and he’s all over Johnny. It’s nothing Johnny’s never seen before, but Ten can feel himself flush even more, anyway.

“Sorry,” Ten gives Johnny a breathless smile, taking a step back to untangle them. Johnny’s hand doesn’t drop - he just moves it to Ten’s hip, keeping him anchored, still a little closer than friends would normally stand.

Not that the two of them have ever done anything particularly _normally._ It’s part of what drives Ten mad - that, and not knowing if it means something to Johnny like it does to him.

“Don’t worry about it.” Johnny glances down to the empty water bottles in Ten’s nervous grip. “Taking a break from practice? No wonder you didn’t respond when I sent you some pics for a fashion check.”

Johnny sent him _pictures_ of this fit? Like he needs any help looking this fucking good, _christ_. Ten would laugh, if he thought it would come out anything other than mildly hysterical.

He clears his throat. “Well, you cleaned up just fine. Though I don’t know why Mr. _Johnny’s Fashion Evaluation_ would want my opinion, anyway.”

“Ah, I always like hearing what you have to say,” Johnny says, like _that’s_ not a declaration that sends heat straight to Ten’s face. God, he hopes he’s flushed and sweaty enough from dancing that it’s not immediately obvious, what Johnny is doing to him.

And then Ten hears it.

Fuck, _fuck._ That’s right. They never turned off the music when they took a break, letting the new album just play through until they started again. Except now it’s not Resonance that’s playing.

No, what’s streaming from the practice room instead is the cheerful shake of sleigh bells and plucky acoustic guitar and fucking _Justin Bieber_ signing about standing under the mistletoe, wanting to kiss his _shawty_. And now that Ten’s paying attention, it just keeps getting _louder._

Because Ten’s life is a _romantic comedy,_ apparently.

“Um,” Ten says intelligently, “I -”

“Hey, are you listening to Christmas music?” Johnny peers over Ten’s head and through the half-open door to the practice room, a wide smile on this face. “I love this song!”

Ten turns, too, and in the mirror’s reflection he spies Hendery fussing with the phone connected to the speaker system. _Goddamnit._ Ten knows the change in music is entirely his curse, but he’s still gonna throttle Hendery for pumping up the volume. That little shit.

“Yeah, well,” Ten licks his lips, struggling to come up with something to say that isn’t _I’m magically cursed whenever I think about you, so Christmas music is all you’ll be hearing around me for a while._ “It’s December, so. There’s no such thing as too much… Christmas cheer.”

Johnny’s smile is incandescent. “See, you can front all you want, but I knew that you liked being in the holiday spirit.”

Oh my god. And now the rest of WayV is paying attention; out of the corner of his eye Ten sees Winwin sit up, eyes narrowed in the direction of the open door and their figures through it. That makes Lucas take notice, and if Lucas is watching then it’s only a matter of time before Yangyang -

Nope. Ten’s not gonna let _that_ happen.

“Well, sorry to, uh, cut this short -'' he starts, shifting out of Johnny’s grip, and Johnny’s smile turns apologetic. His hand falls from Ten’s hip, and Ten ignores the sensation of cool air against his skin.

“Oh - sorry, I didn’t mean to hold up your practice! We’ll catch up later,” Johnny says, shuffling a few steps backwards. His eyes glitter with amusement. “Glad I ran into you, though. Like, _literally_ ran into you.”

Ten grins despite himself, because it’s impossible not to smile around Johnny. “Yeah, yeah. Go do important - blazer things, or whatever. I’ll see you later.”

“Blazer things,” Johnny repeats, eyebrows raised, but at least he turns and starts making his way down the hall, in the direction he was originally going when they collided. He waves jauntily, smiling all the while. “See you, Ten!”

Ten watches Johnny go, still gripping the stupid empty water bottles, Justin Bieber on blast from the room behind him. Isn’t there some lyric about that - hate to see him go, love to watch him leave? Admittedly, Ten doesn’t even _pretend_ he’s not staring as Johnny’s tall figure disappears behind a corner.

_I don’t wanna miss out on the holiday but I can’t stop staring at your face -_

Face. Right.

Ten shakes himself from his thoughts and refills their bottles at the water fountain, frowning as he hears laughter coming from their practice room along with Justin Bieber’s saccharine vocals. There’s a sinking feeling in Ten’s gut that tells him that he’s not going to get away with this one so easily.

The holiday music, WayV might ignore. Ten’s extended, starry-eyed conversation with Johnny? Not so much.

Well, there’s nothing for it. He’s going to have to go back in there eventually, unless he wants to just leave in the middle of practice and head back to the dorms. Or flee the country. Either sounds like a decent option at this point.

Ugh. The burden of being _responsible_ , though.

“Thanks, Ten-ge,” Winwin says when he returns, making grabby-hands for his full water bottle as Ten takes a seat. “Was that Johnny you ran into out there?”

“Yeah,” Ten says, helpless in the face of Winwin’s innocent expression - certainly a ruse, but he’s so cute that it works - and Ten winces internally at how the rest of WayV immediately turns their attention on him.

“Like, literally ran into, huh,” Yangyang says, chewing on his straw with a too-sharp smile.

Kun rolls his eyes - mostly at Yangyang. “Ahh, he should’ve stopped in to say hi.”

“He was all dressed up and on the way to something, I didn’t ask what,” Ten says - and it’s the truth, but he can feel the back of his neck heat under the scrutiny of all his members. In the background, he can hear _Mistletoe_ fade out, only to repeat back to the start of the track. Goddamnit.

“It’s been a little while since we’ve seen Johnny-hyung,” Lucas muses, playing with the ties on his hoodie. “It was fun this fall, getting to see everyone so much. Now we’re all so busy again!”

Ten wills himself not to flush. It’s been less than a week since _he’s_ seen Johnny - brief collisions in the hallways of SM notwithstanding - but he can’t tell WayV that. They’d gone out, just the two of them, masks on to browse a few more shops for Christmas gifts.

So what if he sees Johnny more than the rest of WayV does? They’re _best friends_.

“Yeah, the last time he came over to our dorm was - what, nearly a month ago to hang out with the cats?” Xiaojun scratches his jaw, eyes narrowed as he tries to think back. “Besides how often Ten and Hendery got to see him for Work It, I guess.”

“Funny that I just happen to run into him, then,” Ten says, taking a big sip of his water in an attempt to sound casual.

“Yeah! And did you hear, the music glitched out again while you were chatting with Johnny,” Hendery pipes up, giving Ten a guileless smile. “ _Weird,_ right?”

There’s no way Ten can properly glare at Hendery, not while they’re surrounded by the rest of WayV, but he does his best to radiate intimidation. Hendery just keeps grinning, like it’s a _challenge_.

Ten’s _definitely_ going to get back at him later; Kun’s looking back and forth between the two of them, brow furrowing as he picks up on Ten’s _bitch, I dare you_ energy, and Yangyang looks mere _seconds_ away from spilling the fact that the music mysteriously turning to Christmas tunes has happened at least once with Ten already -

“All right, ready to keep going?” Their dance instructor chooses that moment to stroll in, and Ten nearly slumps all the way to the floor in relief. _God_. He’s never been so glad to get up from a break and have to start moving again.

They climb to their feet with minimal groaning - okay, more or less the same amount of groaning as usual, which their instructor only laughs off. Thankfully, at some point during their conversation and setting up to dance again, Justin Bieber stops crooning. They reset the music from the top so that they can run through the choreo again, and Ten sighs as he takes his place in the lineup, trying to tamp down the image of Johnny in a button-down and blazer.

It’s not easy, but if he’s learned anything, it’s that his friends have an uncanny ability to know when something’s up. That, more than anything, motivates Ten to stay focused on the dance.

And, once again, he somehow manages to make it work.

-❄-

It finally happens a few days later, partway through a new week: Ten slips up when it’s important. Ten slips up at _work._

He’s been pretty lucky so far, honestly - activating the curse during the break at dance practice didn’t actually stop them from being able to rehearse. And the rest of the time it’s been frustrating, but not _disruptive._

But Ten knows it’s only a matter of time, realistically. It’s pretty hard to police your own mind about your crush, even when you have something as all-absorbing to focus on as choreography, or learning the high part to a new song, or performing well on a show that’s going to be aired on the internet to the general public.

Ten’s pretty good at compartmentalizing - and multitasking, because you _have_ to be when you make your living dancing and singing at the same time. But it turns out that can also bite you in the ass.

It’s not even as obvious as running-face first into Johnny outside the practice room, or getting a text from him that interrupts Ten’s thoughts. No - Ten’s just staring off into space during a recording session, waiting for the sound engineers to restart the track and cue him in to take another pass at the chorus, when his mind just… drifts.

It had been cloudy when they’d been dropped off at SM this morning - Ten wonders if it’ll finally snow heavy enough to stick, heavy enough that they can see their footprints in the snow and have a snowball fight in the park near their dorm. Johnny recently mentioned wanting to walk in the snow, reminiscing about the white Chicago winters.

He’d like to take a late-night walk with Johnny, huddling close to each other in the chill, enjoying the first snow of the season. Ten can picture it in his mind’s eye, their noses pink and hands warm from the steaming cups of coffee they carry, kicking through the powder on the ground and taking pictures in the soft light. He wants to listen to Johnny tell stories about the snowstorms of his childhood - so different from Bangkok - and brush a layer of snow off Johnny’s shoulders as they laugh -

Ten’s headphones come to life with a sharp hiss of static.

And then there’s the strum of electric guitar and the lead-in hits on a snare, snapping Ten out of his thoughts. It starts out soft, but only takes a moment to establish a classic 50s beat. Ten only has half a second for his stomach to twist and think _oh, no_ before that iconic Southern drawl starts up: _I’ll have a blue Christmas without you..._

“...Huh,” one of the engineers says, tapping around on her laptop’s trackpad a few times. “I don’t - that’s weird. Where’s that music coming from?”

“Is that… Elvis?” The main tech asks, brow furrowing as the two of them swipe through the apps on the computers in the sound booth, trying to identify the source of the music.

_Ten_ knows where it’s coming from, of course.

Well, usually it’s the curse hijacking Spotify - he has no idea how many audio programs they have open to record. It’s a blessing that the mysterious Christmas music preoccupies both of the engineers enough that they don’t even think to look up at Ten through the recording studio’s glass window.

As it is, it takes everything in Ten not to bury his reddening face in his hands. Oh my _god._ And he’d been doing so well at keeping his thoughts off of Johnny when he needed to be professional, too.

Apparently the mere idea of _snow_ derails that.

It takes seven minutes of listening to Elvis croon through the ridiculous lyrics - seven minutes too many, in Ten’s opinion, given that the song repeats _three times -_ before the engineers officially call for a break, unable to identify where the music is coming from. Ten deflates as he slips the headphones off his head and carefully sets them on the music stand next to his annotated lyrics, glad that he can grab some water and stretch his legs, at least.

Goddamnit. His only saving grace is that the rest of WayV is off doing their own individual recording sessions, and no one else is around to hear this.

By the time Ten gets back from a quick trip to the bathroom and has scrolled through most of the new posts on his Instagram feed, the song has stopped playing - though according to everyone in the sound booth, it’s unclear what actually worked, or what was even playing Elvis in the first place.

Ten doesn’t question it, happy to get back to work and focus on _doing his job._

And if he tucks the daydream of a snowy walk with Johnny into his heart to visit again later - no one has to know but him.

-❄-

“Are you sure we’re supposed to be doing this?”

Ten looks down at the hockey skates at his feet, still tied together by the laces - just like when Johnny handed them to him a few minutes ago. He’s only gotten as far as pulling off his own boots and exposing his socks to the cool night air, wiggling his toes and fidgeting in anticipation.

“What, go ice skating?” Johnny looks up from lacing up his own skates; they’re sitting on the bench side-by-side, and Johnny’s almost done already. He raises his eyebrows so high they almost get hidden by his colorful knit beanie and fringe of blond hair. “Did someone tell you we couldn’t?”

“No,” Ten says hesitantly, reaching down to pluck at the laces to loosen them. “But we dance for a living, doesn’t it seem risky?”

Johnny laughs. “Any riskier than actually dancing? C’mon, we’ll go slow. We only paid for an hour of skating, anyway.”

“ _You_ only paid for an hour of skating,” Ten reminds him, feeling his cheeks flush. He ignores the voice in the back of his head that tells him that this very much feels like a date, even if Johnny _does_ just pay for the both of them whenever they spend time together. “ _I_ paid for the hot chocolate.”

“Mm, and you can buy us more afterwards, too,” Johnny smiles. He ties a knot at the top of his skates and slaps his hands on his jean-clad thighs. “Okay, I’m ready - what, you don’t even have your skates on yet? What happened to Ten, ice hockey extraordinaire?”

“He had a stunt double,” Ten grumbles, face heating even further when Johnny moves to kneel at his feet, tugging at the tongue of the first skate to open it up for Ten’s foot to slide in. Johnny grins up at Ten, expectantly.

Oh. Ten didn’t realize that this is what Johnny meant when he said he would _help._ They’re hidden by his own hat, but Ten is _certain_ that his ears must be fully red right now, with Johnny on his knees in front of him.

He slides his foot into the skate obediently, wiggling until his foot is fully seated against the sole and his toes gently nudge up against the inside. “Is it supposed to be so tight?”

“Yeah, your ankles are more protected that way,” Johnny says, starting to lace up the skate in a practiced criss-cross maneuver. Ten watches, entranced by the sight of Johnny’s dexterous fingers. “You wore skates during the 90s Love shoot, didn’t you?”

Ten braces both hands on the bench and kicks gently at Johnny - with the socked foot, not the one with the half-laced skate, of course. He grins at Johnny’s faux-wounded expression. “We barely did any actual skating - most of it was standing around and, like, posing. And we got to goof around a little between takes, but not for very long. This will be my first time actually _skating_ in a long time.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it good for you,” Johnny smirks, giving the laces an extra tug before he ties them in a neat bow. Ten mimes kicking him again, if only to hear Johnny’s bright laughter. But Johnny catches his foot, gives it a quick squeeze as his smile softens. “Really, don’t worry - I’ll make sure you won’t fall.”

Ten stops himself just in time, but he nearly snorts in self-derision. Too late for _that,_ Johnny.

Johnny helps him slip on and tie up the second skate, his hands on Ten’s elbows as they stand together and Ten wobbles, uncertain. He has pretty good balance most of the time, but the narrow blades under his feet are strange and unfamiliar. They giggle as Ten tips; Johnny leans with him and guides them both upright again. This close, Ten can smell Johnny’s usual scent from the open vee of his jacket - coffee, sandalwood.

_God,_ and they haven’t even gotten on the ice yet. This is dangerous for Ten’s health in more ways than one.

“C’mon, one foot in front of the other,” Johnny shuffles a few careful steps backwards, leading them towards the break in the hip-high wall where they can step onto the ice. If Ten leans into Johnny a little more than he really needs to, then that’s nobody’s business but his own. It’s already a small miracle that he and Johnny managed to find the time just the two of them this late in December; Ten’s going to enjoy every moment of this.

Even if and _when_ he falls on his face.

“I’m going to fall on my face,” he warns Johnny as they step onto the ice together. Johnny had admitted to him that it’s been several years since he last went ice skating, but from his immediate ease on the ice, Ten wouldn’t have guessed.

“You’re not going to fall,” Johnny smiles, reaching out to clasp Ten’s gloved hand with his own when Ten, true to his word, wobbles through his first few steps. For the MV recording they were wearing hockey pads - now there’s just a thin layer of denim between Ten’s knees and the hard ice. “Here, you skate on the outside near the wall, in case you need to grab on. But we’ll go slow.”

Ten’s heart thuds in his chest; the skating rink is outdoors, lit up all bright in the darkness of early evening, so his blush can be attributed to the cold. Hopefully. Everything about this seems perfectly designed to drive him crazy: Johnny, supportive and cute all bundled up in his favorite peacoat, holding hands as Johnny guides Ten around the ice, the presence of other couples that makes this an undeniable _date activity._

He’s only human, after all. Ten will never say _no_ to the opportunity to hold hands with Johnny. It never gets old, even if it’s something they already occasionally do as a part of their skinship with one another.

He gives Johnny a nervous smile. “Like this, I’m just going to drag you down with me.”

Johnny squeezes his hand. The gloves he’s wearing are fingerless, and the pads of his fingers press into the back of Ten’s hand as he grins down at Ten. Johnny is so _warm_ , even in the December chill. “You’ll get the hang of it. Just trust me.”

Ten does, of course.

So he lets Johnny lead him around the outer ring of the skating rink, giggling together as Ten gets used to the feel of the ice underneath his skates, how to shift his weight and push off with each foot while maintaining his balance. He’s able to fully let go of the wall around the edge of the rink eventually, but their hands remain clasped. Ten’s relieved that neither of them make a move to let go.

After a few laps Ten gets pretty comfortable on skates, comfortable enough that he doesn’t have to dedicate every brain cell to trying not to fall or catch an edge. So he and Johnny talk, keeping an easy, even pace around and around the rink in circles - Ten loses count how many times, or how long they’ve been on the ice.

It’s - it’s a lot of fun, actually. In no small part because he has Johnny at his side.

Ten only notices on something like the eighth lap around that the music they’ve been hearing is _Merry Christmas Baby,_ and it _has_ been for maybe two laps now. It’s some rock version, upbeat enough that hopefully no one has noticed and gotten too annoyed about it. There’s enough ambient noise of skating and laughing and kids shrieking as they chase each other that it’s not _too_ too obvious.

That’s when Johnny’s brow furrows and he cuts a glance over at Ten.

“I don’t think I’ve actually heard this version of this song before,” he says. “Well - the _first_ time they played it, I don’t think I had heard it before. I think it’s been on for like, twelve full minutes.”

“Isn’t it _Merry Christmas Baby?”_ Ten asks, trying to sound casual and not like he has _personally_ inflicted this music upon everyone present via his romantic feelings for the man at his side. If it’s been playing for twelve minutes, it’s probably going to be playing for at _least_ twelve minutes more.

Ten can’t stop himself from thinking about Johnny when he’s _with Johnny,_ after all.

Johnny gives him a confused half-smile, eyebrow quirked. “Yeah, but it sounds like… Hanson? I didn’t even know they did a Christmas album. Too bad I can’t ask Siri to listen and check what it is, exactly.”

Ten grins, looking around them; they’re a little slower than some of the groups skating, sticking close to the edge, and it means they have a pocket of ice mostly to themselves. “You can probably get away with pulling your phone out for a little bit.”

“Nah,” Johnny swings his arm - and by extension, their joined hands between them. “My hand is pretty occupied.”

And, well. Ten’s helpless to the heat in his cheeks when Johnny smiles at him at that.

They catch each other up on the holiday shenanigans of their respective groups as they skate - the acoustic Christmas playlist Haechan and Mark are curating for a future cozy guitar vlive, Hendery and Yangyang wrapping Lucas in lights when he compared his height to that of their fake Christmas tree, Taeyong’s insistence on wearing a fluffy red-and-white santa hat anytime they’re home on the fifth floor.

“His hair is white again, so he’s going all out for the holiday,” Johnny laughs, and Ten smiles - he can just picture it. Their fearless leader has always had a big heart. “Did you hear he’s planning a party for us all, too?”

“A party?” Ten perks up, eyebrows rising. “Wait, for _all_ of us?”

“Well, it was so fun to have the twenty-three of us together with the new albums,” Johnny shrugs one shoulder with an easy smile. “It would be fun to do something together for the holiday, right?”

Ten swallows; it _does_ sound fun. But it also means keeping his shit together for a couple hours while surrounded by the _entirety_ of NCT - because there’s no way he and Johnny will be anything other than inseparable. Ten can be honest with himself, in the relative safety of his own mind; at any given moment, at any kind of party, the place he really wants to be is at Johnny’s side.

And the romantic overtones of Christmas will only make it worse, probably. But it sounds like a great time. God knows they don’t usually get the chance to spend so much time together - recording and promoting Resonance has felt like the best kind of dream.

“Yeah,” Ten replies, glancing away from the ice to look up at Johnny. “It sounds perfect. There’s no one else I rather spend the holiday with.”

And sure, Ten means _all_ of NCT - but he also definitely means Johnny. From the way Johnny beams down at him, his cheeks and nose pink from the cold and eyes bright in the floodlights, maybe he hears the real meaning of Ten’s words.

They skate for the full hour - and by the time they’re due to step off the ice and return their skates, Ten’s surprised at how quickly the time flew by. But that’s not new, whenever he spends time with Johnny.

Of course, they take a few final pictures before they get off the ice - Ten with his arms outstretched, not holding onto Johnny _or_ the sidewall, to prove that he could do it; a few selfies of the two of them together, noses red and hats haphazardly pulled back to show more of their faces. A few more of their best Work It poses - well, as best as they can do on ice.

When they exit the rink and sink down on the bench again with a sigh, Johnny snaps one more photo - their skate-clad feet, side by side, two neat pairs. Ten is unreasonably charmed - he _knows_ Johnny likes taking photos, especially natural, unposed ones. There’s no reason their pictures together should make him feel all gooey caramel-warm like it does.

It probably has something to do with the way Johnny smiles at him, when he shows Ten the resulting shots.

Skating is tiring, though, even only an hour of it. The way the muscles in Ten’s calves and thighs complain at the exertion is a little different - muscles he doesn’t use for dancing, apparently. It feels weird to be back in flat shoes again, too, but it’s all worth it for the way Johnny links arms with him as soon as they’ve returned their skates.

“Up for another hot chocolate?” Johnny asks, laughing when Ten yawns and does a shitty job of pretending not to burrow into Johnny’s side to steal his warmth as they walk. It’s not too far of a trip to one of their favorite cafes; Ten’s not surprised when Johnny wordlessly leads them in that direction.

“Mmm,” Ten nods, taking a deep breath of the crisp winter air. “It will be nice to sit for a bit and get warm. I can’t believe how tired my legs feel.”

“We _did_ do, like, fifteen laps of the rink,” Johnny grins, unwinding his arm from Ten’s grip. For a moment, Ten’s belly twists - but Johnny just adjusts, drapes his arm around Ten’s waist to tuck him more snugly against his side. Oh - this is even better. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when we’re both sore for practice tomorrow.”

“You know, you probably could have made a JCC out of our skating,” Ten says. It’s hard not to bask in Johnny’s warmth and Johnny’s attention and Johnny’s _scent_ , right there under his nose because Ten only comes up to Johnny’s collar, with or without the added height from ice skates.

“Yeah,” Johnny tilts his head, gaze caught on something far in the distance, cheeks fresh and pink. “I like that it was something just for us, though.”

_God,_ Johnny has no idea what he does to Ten, saying things like that.

“Me too,” Ten replies softly, and they spend the rest of the walk to the cafe in companionable silence.

The bell over the door jingles when they step inside, and Ten reluctantly unwinds from Johnny’s embrace to go buy their hot chocolate. They still can’t stop smiling at each other, giggling at how sweaty their hair is when they pull off their hats. But it’s perfect, once Ten delivers their hot drinks to the table Johnny managed to snag by the windows.

The music in the cafe is something soft on acoustic guitar, a gentle melody and sweet harmony weaving in and out. Ten can’t help but listen, and isn’t surprised when it starts to loop. It’s lovely, even when it makes his heart ache to hear the words:

_Love is who we are, and no season can contain it. Love would never fall for that._

Ten he can’t bring himself to hate it - not when it preserves this moment just a little bit longer, the warm bubble he and Johnny have carved for themselves.

He wishes this moment could go on forever. It’s all the little things: Johnny’s knees knocking with his under the tiny table, hot chocolate steaming into their cool faces, their laughter when Johnny intentionally gets whipped cream on his nose, the twinkle of holiday lights outside reflecting in Johnny’s eyes.

_Love is Christmas,_ the song tells him.

He doesn’t wish often, but Ten wishes he could hold on to this.

-❄-

Kun corners Ten the second weekend of December.

Kun is _very_ good at pointed conversations; it must be part parental instinct and part conscious planning. For some reason, even after _years_ of living with him, Ten still doesn’t anticipate Kun’s ambush in time to avoid it entirely.

It happens like this:

Ten has a Saturday morning off for the first time in what feels like forever, with all of the promotions and schedules and practices they’ve been having through the fall and into winter. He sleeps in a little, eventually rolling his way out from underneath the cats to shuffle into the kitchen and make tea. The rest of the dorm is quiet, which is no surprise - Ten had vaguely heard Yangyang and Lucas and Winwin up late gaming, and Xiaojun and Hendery are both the type who can sleep literally _forever_ if they don’t need to be awake for anything.

Kun comes in shortly after the kettle boils, murmuring a quiet _good morning._ He rummages around in the fridge; Ten assumes he’s preparing to make a grocery list for the coming week.

Ten is mistaken.

“So,” Kun says, pulling an apple out of the fridge and closing the door with his hip. He leans against the counter as he buffs the fruit on his shirt. “Something’s been going on with you lately.”

Well, shit.

Ten pauses where he is idly tugging on the string of his teabag, looking up from an infinite scroll through twitter. Kun’s expression is open and innocent, but Ten’s witnessed enough of these kinds of conversations - and been the _subject_ of such interrogations - that he more or less knows how this is going to go down.

Kun is a good leader; he reads people well and can sense the chemistry between WayV members to know when something’s up - good _or_ bad - or when something needs to be worked out. _Parental instinct_ isn’t far from the truth, in Ten’s opinion. Kun is often the first person anyone in WayV goes to when they need advice, and for good reason.

It sucks at the moment, though, when Ten’s harboring something he would _very_ much prefer not to talk about.

Kun crunches into his apple, content to wait Ten out. He’s been on an apple kick ever since Halloween, and even on a good day it would make Ten wrinkle his nose. Right now, they both know it’s an intimidation tactic.

Ugh. This isn’t going to go in Ten’s favor.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ten lies through his teeth; it doesn’t even sound convincing to himself. He tries not to squirm under Kun’s knowing smile.

“Uh huh,” Kun replies mildly, completely unconvinced. “You know, I gave you space a few weeks ago because you _did_ just seem kind of tired and out of it. But just because I haven’t said anything doesn’t mean I don’t pay attention, or that I don’t care.”

With a sigh, Kun drops into the chair across from Ten, leaning forward on one elbow as he chews. “We’re between albums and the holidays are coming - you shouldn’t be as stressed as you are, Ten. What’s going on?”

Ten deflates, picking at the place where the paper tag on his tea bag is attached to the string with a little staple. He knows Kun is just being a good friend, and he’s _always_ been a good friend and confidante. That doesn’t mean Kun is going to believe what Ten has to say, though - or that Ten is going to enjoy admitting it.

He flips his phone upside-down so it’s not a distraction. This might take a little while.

“You’re probably not going to believe me,” Ten says slowly, pushing his bangs out of his face and meeting Kun’s gaze. “It took me a little while to even figure out what was going on, and now - uh. It’s still going to sound pretty… unbelievable.”

Kun cups his chin with one hand, giving Ten a small smile. “Try me.”

Ten waits a beat, assessing Kun’s expression for anything other than honest patience - and of course, finds nothing but just that. Ugh. Here goes. “I think I’ve been cursed since the end of November.”

It’s almost comical, how Kun’s mouth drops open. “You - you think you’ve been _cursed.”_

“I think I _am_ cursed. Presently.” Ten says.

“Since the end of _November.”_

“Yes, that’s what I said,” Ten rolls his eyes. He takes a sip from his mug, wincing a little at the hot tea against his tongue, but at least it’s something to do in the face of Kun’s slack-jawed staring. “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you -”

“Well, excuse me for being caught off-guard when one of my best friends tells me he _thinks he’s cursed,_ and has been for several weeks without telling anyone!” Kun crunches into his apple again, frowning. He chews and swallows before he starts up again, gesturing with the apple still in his hand. “I didn’t believe Sicheng when he said you asked about -”

“Sicheng told you?” Ten sighs, scraping a hand through his hair again. So much for hoping that Winwin had just put _that_ weird conversation out of his mind.

“He was just worried,” Kun points out, head tilted, “and rightfully so, apparently. What do you mean, exactly, by _cursed?”_

So Ten tells him. About thinking the song glitches were weird, the first few times, but not being suspicious until the moment in the practice room with Yangyang, when his phone started pumping out _Wham!_ And then the dinner where Lucas earned the nickname _Santa Baby,_ of course, and the various times since then that Ten has triggered a Christmas-song glitch: _Mistletoe_ by Justin Bieber, _Blue Christmas_ at the studio while recording, _Merry Christmas Baby_ while out ice skating with Johnny.

Ten carefully leaves out the fact that he knows how the curse is triggered, and that apparently the trigger is _romantic thoughts ft. Johnny Suh._ If he can leave that part out, maybe it won’t be so bad that Kun knows.

“So let me get this straight,” Kun says, pausing as he takes a last bite of his apple. He’s worked it all the way to the core as he’s listened to Ten explain - haltingly, and with flushed cheeks - the curse. “Any time we’ve heard a Christmas song out of nowhere or on repeat since the start of the month, it’s been because of your… curse?”

“Well, what else would you call it?” Ten huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. Kun has every right to be skeptical, but Ten is pretty fucking sure he knows what’s going on. “It’s happened often enough in _entirely_ different situations that it can’t be coincidence. There’s no way the entire Seoul metropolitan area is experiencing _that_ many music-playing glitches around me, specifically.”

“Okay, okay,” Kun holds up a pacifying hand. “The number of times you’ve mentioned _is_ pretty unusual. I didn’t think you were this superstitious, though.”

Ten snorts. “I’m not. You know that Winwin and Xuxi are the most superstitious of all of us - that’s why I went to Winwin, anyway. But really - there’s no other explanation for it.”

“If you knew that Winwin was so superstitious, you shouldn’t be that surprised that he said something to _me_ about this.” Kun says, his dimples coming out full-force as he smiles.

Ten kicks at Kun’s skins under the table with his bare feet, pouting. “If you still don’t believe me, get your phone out.”

He’s only a little surprised when Kun does, hand dipping into the pocket of his sweats to lay his phone on the table between them. “What should I do?”

“Put on some music,” Ten says, leaning back in his chair. “Literally anything but Christmas music, it doesn’t matter. I don’t even need to be touching it - just watch.”

Kun glances up at Ten as he taps through his apps, pulling up Spotify with a raised eyebrow. He doesn’t hesitate to press play on whatever he was listening to before - Jay Chou, of course. This is Kun, after all.

They listen to the song together for a few seconds - Ten waits because okay, he’s a little dramatic, and he wants to show Kun that he really _is_ cursed.

“Now what?” Kun asks. He watches Ten, the apple core in his hand entirely forgotten.

_Now for a little bit of magic_ , Ten thinks.

He doesn’t have to close his eyes, doesn’t even have to look away from Kun’s curious gaze as he sinks into the memory of going skating with Johnny just a few days ago. The sensation of Johnny’s arm around him is still pressed into Ten’s skin. He knows he’s starting to blush, and Kun has probably noticed - Ten’s ears seem to be ready to turn pink at the drop of a hat these days, at least when it comes to Johnny. It’s easy to let the warmth kindle in his chest at the memory of Johnny’s face, eyes creased with a smile, his hand in Ten’s as they loop around the rink in lazy circles.

Jay Chou is cut off by a hiss of static, a blip - and then the plink of a piano picking out high notes filters through the speakers on Kun’s phone.

They both look down as the vocals come in, a soulful melody overlaid with piano chords. _It’s almost midnight where you lay your head, but I’m calling numbers, buying plane tickets in bed…_

“ _Christmas Without You_ ,” Kun squints down at the screen to read aloud, looking between his phone and the flush high on Ten’s cheeks. “By OneRepublic.”

“Never heard of it,” Ten grumbles, which is maybe true. A lot of the Christmas music he’s heard this year has started to blend together - except when a song becomes an earworm because it’s been on repeat. This one sounds as bittersweet as Ten’s currently feeling about the holiday as a whole; ballads don’t stick in Ten’s head the way the pop songs tend to.

It’s still a curse either way, of course.

“Huh,” Kun says, tapping at the screen. “That’s weird. It doesn’t even say it’s on a new playlist, or that the song is on repeat -”

“It is,” Ten deadpans.

“- But yeah, that’s a little strange,” Kun rubs his thumb along his lower lip, in thought. He tries swiping away, or pausing the music, to no avail. “Wow, it _completely_ locked up my phone; it won’t let me stop the music _or_ switch to something else.”

Ten takes a long, noisy slurp of his tea, eyes narrowed at Kun over the lip of his mug. “You’re welcome.”

Kun stands, wincing as he stretches his arms over his head and his shoulder cracks. He lets the music keep playing; there’s nothing for it, now, until whatever the curse does dissipates. “Well. That certainly is something.”

Ten watches as Kun shuffles around their kitchen, throwing away his apple core and then moving to the coffee machine to get it started. The rest of WayV will be up soon, probably. Lucas always manages to tumble out of bed as soon as the coffee is freshly brewed. “You believe me?”

Kun leans back against the counter and shrugs. “I mean, it’s the best explanation we’ve got. And tell me if I’m wrong, but - but I feel like you’re still not telling me something. About the curse.”

Ten licks his lips. Damn Kun and his high emotional intelligence. “Maybe.”

With a sigh, Kun pushes his bangs out of his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, just - do you think you have it under control? A curse where the music playing near you turns into Christmas music has been… amusing so far, but I can see how it could potentially get disruptive to our actual work.”

Ten groans. Trust Kun to see right to the heart of the problem.

Because that’s the trouble, isn’t it? Ten _does_ know what triggers the curse. Controlling it is an entirely different matter. “I’m doing my best, Kun-ge. That’s really all I can say.”

“I’m sure,” Kun says, and Ten glances up at him from where he has his face cupped in his hands. Kun doesn’t look like he’s being sarcastic - he’s giving Ten a fond smile, and after a moment he leans over to ruffle Ten’s hair. “It must have been rough to deal with all on your own - don’t forget we’re all here for you, okay? Whatever this curse is, it’s not your fault, and it’s not a burden you have to bear by yourself.”

Ten swallows around the sudden lump that has formed in his throat. Of course he trusts WayV; that’s never a question. He probably should have told Kun sooner. “Yeah, I know. Thanks. It’s just - it’s been kind of a strange couple of weeks.”

Kun laughs. “Well, probably stranger for you than for the rest of us. We’ve all still had to deal with the Christmas songs on repeat, too.”

“Don’t remind me,” Ten mutters, and keeps drinking his tea.

By the time Lucas does wander into the kitchen a few minutes later, following his nose to the coffee as Kun pours him a mug, _Christmas Without You_ has repeated twice more. Kun just gives Ten a smile and pats his shoulder as Ten drops his empty mug in the sink and retreats to his bedroom to cuddle Louis and Leon some more. Emotional conversations are tiring - even ones where Ten _isn’t_ forced to admit his long-burning crush.

But he was telling the truth about doing his best to keep it all under control. Ten just hopes that whatever he’s doing now is enough.

-❄-

The thing is - it’s _not_ enough. Not in the face how pervasive the Christmas music becomes as the days inch closer and closer to the holidays.

And certainly not enough compared to the strength of Ten’s feelings.

Ten tries, he really does. But even without the curse, it’s just the time of year where holiday earworms are everywhere. And Ten may have scoffed when Johnny called him out on being into Christmas, but he can’t deny it; the holiday music just ignites the kindling that’s already there, the feelings Ten has harbored for longer than he cares to admit.

So as hard as he tries to keep his thoughts in check, the curse keeps popping up - and more and more often.

He’s sitting in the living room when Yangyang decides to do a live, snuggling into Ten on the couch and then bothering the cats and generally making an adorable nuisance of himself. Ten tunes Yangyang out like he usually does - he’s just in the background of the stream on his phone, which often happens when Yangyang does a spur-of-the-moment lives - so of course that’s when Johnny texts him.

And it honestly doesn’t cross Ten’s mind, that Yangyang is playing some hip hop as a backbeat to his fast-paced chatter. Noise is just a constant around Yangyang anyway, no matter what he’s doing. Ten has learned how to ignore it, for the most part.

So Ten opens up Johnny’s message, not even thinking about what he looks like or the fond smile that takes over his face. It’s a pretty innocuous text - well, innocuous for the two of them; they’ve always strayed more on the flirty side of banter - accompanied by a sort-of blurry mirror selfie. Donghyuck is clearly hanging off Johnny’s arm and generally making a pain of himself the same way that Yangyang presently is. That makes Ten smile even more.

**[Ten]:** parenthood, huh?  


Ten starts to texts back, and -

Yangyang _shrieks._

Ten blinks and looks up from the screen to see Yangyang _throw_ his phone across the room to the other couch like it’s covered in bugs and not…. oh.

He hadn’t even noticed it as it happened, which maybe says something about how Ten has been acclimating to the curse. But what had just been hip hop coming out of Yangyang’s phone is definitely the bright sound of motown guitars, and the warm, clear pitch of a tiny Michael Jackson singing _I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus._

Yangyang screeches again, and Ten can’t stop himself from laughing. God, at least this time the invocation of the curse is fucking _funny._ It serves Yangyang right, for being a little shit.

Though maybe Ten’s jokes about parenting are a little too on the nose.

“Oh my god,” he says, rolling his eyes as Yangyang looks at his phone like it has mortally offended him. “It’s just a _song,_ Yangyangie.”

Ten knows better than to try and stop the music from playing, but he gets up from his perch and tosses Yangyang’s phone back to him, flashing WayV’s V-sign to the live viewers as he does. The phone smacks Yangyang in the baggy chest of his hoodie, and he glowers at Ten as he turns it over in his hands.

“It’s a _horny Christmas song,”_ Yangyang grumbles, bringing the phone up again and adjusting his bangs in the front-facing camera. He slumps into Ten’s side to get Ten’s face in frame, pouting. “Arguably _the most_ horny Christmas song. And I can’t get it to _stop.”_

Well, there’s nothing _either_ of them can do about that, so Ten shrugs and feigns innocence. But Ten _has_ enough romantic Christmas songs in December that he’s becoming a little bit of an expert. Enough to tease Yangyang about, at least.

“Oh yeah?” He raises an eyebrow as Yangyang continues to tap fruitlessly away at Spotify, trying to change the music back to the Travis Scott he was playing. Ten smirks. “You sure about that? There are plenty of romantic Christmas songs that edge into horny territory.”

“Yeah, but this one is like… _voyeuristic,”_ Yangyang complains, “ _no one_ wants to see Santa make out with anyone, let alone their mom. It’s _Santa!”_

Maybe this isn’t something they should be talking about on a livestream in front of thousands of fans, Ten thinks. But it sure is _fun_ , going tit-for-tat with Yangyang. And the Jackson 5 aren’t going to stop singing for a while, so he might as well enjoy it. “There are lots of songs about mistletoe, though, and like - kissing around the holidays. I mean, I get why you don’t like this one because you still believe in Santa -”

“I do _not_ believe in Santa -”

“- being the young boy that you are, but you can’t judge people for who they want to kiss.”

Yangyang’s cheeks are a bright pink, and he glares at Ten through the camera feed. “I’m not, it’s not that - even if it’s Santa, I wouldn’t kinkshame -”

“Aaaand that’s all for today!”

The phone is plucked out of Yangyang’s grip by Kun, whose smile is a little strained when he turns the camera on himself and signs off. “Yangyang’s ending his live now, thank you for joining! We’ll see you soon!”

Ten didn’t see Kun enter the room, but the expression on his face when he hands Yangyang his phone back makes Ten curl inward a little bit. He feels Yangyang snuggle a little closer into his side - like Ten can protect the _both_ of them from the lecture they’re about to get.

Oops. Well, Yangyang _did_ use the word kinkshame.

“I can’t leave either of you unsupervised for _five minutes?_ ” Kun sighs and crosses his arms, cocking one hip in his patented _disappointed father_ pose. He looks about two seconds from massaging the bridge of his nose. It’s hilarious. “God knows what you would’ve ended up saying if Xiaojun didn’t have your live on in the background and I didn’t put a stop to -”

“He started it,” Ten grins, laughing as Yangyang yelps a protest at how quickly Ten throws him under the bus. If Kun wasn’t here, Ten would’ve already been tackled to the floor in a play-fight.

But it’s mostly true. Yangyang _did_ bring it up.

“And you’re a few years older and should know better,” Kun replies, brow furrowed. Ten can tell that Kun is fighting to stay stern, though; the corner of his mouth keeps twitching in amusement. “ _Kinkshame?_ Really? On a vlive? It’s going to be up on YouTube in an hour, and the internet is forever.”

Ten tilts his head, unable to contain his smile. “He’s said worse, Kun-ge.”

“I’m _right here,”_ Yangyang whines.

“And where did you learn that word in English anyway, huh?” Ten continues, fixing Kun with a raised eyebrow.

Kun just snorts. “From _you,_ you heathen. And I wouldn’t have been as surprised to hear you say it, but _please,_ Yangyang, just because you’re 20 now doesn’t mean you can say _anything_ when you go live. There are so many people watching, you know -”

“Didn’t you hear what happened? It’s not _my_ fault that my phone decided to glitch and start playing… _that song,”_ Yangyang pouts. “Don’t tell me _you_ like weird romantic Christmas music, too.”

And - fuck.

Kun pauses with his mouth already open to continue to scold their maknae. His eyes flit to Ten, and when their gaze meets, Ten feels something drop to the pit of his stomach.

Because Kun _knows_ , now. There hasn’t been an incident since Ten told him over the weekend - by forced confession, let it not be forgotten - but from the gleam in Kun’s eyes, Ten has a bad feeling about what’s about to happen.

“Oh, it just _randomly_ started playing?” Kun says, uncrossing his arms to put his hands on his hips. “Now that _is_ unusual, huh.”

There’s a pregnant pause where Ten narrows his eyes at Kun and Kun stares back, guileless - or, at least _pretending_ to be innocent, which he’s deceptively good at. Yangyang must pick up on the spike in energy in the room, because he looks back and forth between them nervously, waiting for either of them to say something.

“Yeah,” Ten finally says, shrugging one shoulder. “Weird, right?”

“Okay, _forget_ about mommy kissing Santa Claus,” Yangyang says, snagging his phone out of Kun’s hand and fleeing the room with a patter of bare feet. “I do _not_ like energy in the studio when my parents fight!”

Yangyang’s voice fades as he retreats into the room he shares with Kun and Xiaojun, and Ten can’t stop himself from chuckling, covering his mouth with one sweater-clad hand. Kun breaks, too, his mouth widening into a smile as he shakes his head wryly.

“Ah, Yangyang,” Ten giggles, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “At least he didn’t swear this time.”

“He usually catches himself before he swears now,” Kun says with a sigh. “But put the two of you together and you never know what’s going to happen.”

Ten flutters his eyelashes. “The fans love our banter. It’s part of our boyish charm.”

“It’s something all right,” Kun mutters. He eyes Ten, lips pursed in a small smile. “And don’t think I don’t see what you’re trying to do, avoiding the subject.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ten smiles, feigning innocence. “Don’t you enjoy co-parenting with me?”

“Sure, but you shouldn’t use your curse to tease Yangyang,” Kun says - and _ugh._ Does he have to say it like that, so nonchalant, like it’s not something that Ten has to worry about every waking second of the day?

“It’s not like I can help it,” Ten pouts; he knows it doesn’t work on Kun, but it’s worth it for the way Kun rolls his eyes at Ten’s antics. “At least he’s not suspicious about it.”

“Yet,” Kun says, turning to pad towards the kitchen. He looks over his shoulder at Ten, giving him a smile that Ten finds just a little bit foreboding. “He’s not suspicious _yet.”_

And unfortunately for Ten, when it comes to WayV, Kun is usually right.

-❄-

The worst thing about Kun being right is Kun _knowing_ that he’s right. It always happens, so Ten shouldn’t be surprised - but that doesn’t make his smugness any more enjoyable.

“I won’t say I told you so,” Kun says, poking at something in his skillet that smells unfairly amazing. He shoots a grin at Ten, who can only grumble from his seat at the kitchen table. “But I’m thinking it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ten sighs. “Would you really call this _suspicious,_ though, or just _going crazy?”_

A series of muffled shouts comes from the direction of the living room, and Kun barely blinks. It sounds a lot like their younger members - also not a surprise. “Hard to tell with them sometimes, huh.”

“I’ll say,” Ten grumbles. Where they get the energy to get into so many arguments and tickle matches on the daily is beyond him.

Ten knows he’s the one at fault for their current shenanigans, sort of. It’s an indirect chain of events, but it still leads back to him and his curse and his - well, _everything_ lately. Because the curse got triggered again on the way home from practice the day before, and they’d had the radio on in the company van. Ten probably should have expected that Johnny would text, since they usually chat late in the day.

What Ten _didn’t_ expect is that they would get stuck in traffic and spend a full twenty minutes subjected to Ariana Grande’s Christmas single on repeat.

Kun and Ten both wince together as another wave of shouting comes from the living room, punctuated by a high-pitched noise that must come from Yangyang and then Lucas’s booming laughter.

Because now Xiaojun has _Santa Tell Me_ stuck in his head, and has been subjecting the rest of WayV to it just as much as Ten’s curse had. When Xiaojun is singing in the shower, there’s really no stopping him.

Kun rubs at his temples, eyes closed. “I keep telling myself that it could be worse - Ariana isn’t my favorite, but at least Xiaojun has a lovely voice.”

“He’s on the vocal line for a reason; he sure can hit those high notes. And there are plenty of romantic Christmas songs out there that are worse,” Ten nods, sneaking another chip from Kun’s bag of snacks while his back is turned.

“Mm,” Kun hums and pivots to face Ten again, gesturing with his chopsticks. Ten slips the chip in his mouth with a decisive crunch, relishing Kun’s exasperated eye-roll. “You know, that’s the second time that you’ve specified that it’s not just Christmas music, but _romantic_ Christmas music.”

Ten blinks. Goddamnit, of course this would be one of the times Kun chooses to be extra observant. “Um.”

“Makes me wonder if that’s tied to the curse somehow,” Kun continues blithely, watching Ten’s expression. Ten, of course, is helpless to the way his ears start to heat. Why are all his friends so _nosy_?

Ten opens his mouth to reply - to lie to Kun’s face and deny it, though if _Kun_ has caught onto it, Ten doesn’t have much hope about his feelings for Johnny still being secret - but there’s the slam of a door somewhere in the dorm, followed by a loud chorus of enthusiastic voices.

“ _Santa tell me, if you’re really the-_ aah!”

There’s the muffled thump of someone getting tackled to the floor, and Hendery’s imitation of Xiaojun’s singing cuts off with a grunt and shrieking laughter. Ten slumps into the table with giggles; Kun just shakes his head with a sigh.

Xiaojun strides into the kitchen a few moments later, hair dripping a little onto his tee and cheeks pink. At least he’s managed to pull on joggers before escaping from Yangyang and Hendery. “Kun-ge, why am _I_ always the one ambushed when I come out of the shower?”

“You’re the middle child, Xiaojun, and you have the highest EQ of the team - you’re just always going to get teased the most,” Kun smiles placatingly, patting Xiaojun on the top of the head. Xiaojun wraps his arms around Kun and hooks his chin on Kun’s shoulder, sighing dramatically and peeking into Kun’s skillet.

“Don’t let them get to you,” Ten says, sneaking another chip while Kun is preoccupied. “They have _no_ taste in pop. You keep singing Ariana, baby.”

“We _make_ pop music, Ten-ge,” Xiaojun snorts, but he looks pleased at the encouragement anyway.

Kun makes eye contact over Xiaojun’s head as he cooks, a raised-eyebrow look that tells Ten that he hasn’t gotten away with avoiding the subject of his curse forever. A few minutes later the rest of their members pile into the kitchen in a rowdy group for team dinner, and Ten puts all thought of the curse aside.

It’s easy to do, when he’s entirely preoccupied with arguing with Yangyang and cooing at Winwin and getting into a bantering match with Hendery.

Normal WayV things, really. Ten wouldn’t trade it for the world.

-❄-

Johnny facetimes Ten one evening a few days later, while Ten is slipping on a loose, soft sweatshirt after a warm shower. The weather keeps getting colder and colder; on the way home there had been flakes floating on the wind, though there still hasn’t been enough snow to stick. Ten’s holding out hope, though; it’s officially winter now, not fall, and it’s only a matter of time before they get the first storm of the year.

“Hey,” Johnny says, eyes tracking over Ten’s face as he settles into bed, belly-down, for their chat. “Staying warm?

“Trying to,” Ten says, tugging his sweatshirt up around his neck to be a little more cozy. Maybe he should have put something on under the hoodie; at this angle, the neck of the hoodie sort of gives Johnny the perfect down-the-shirt shot of Ten’s collarbones and a peek of his bare chest. There’s even a little hint at the dark lines of Ten’s tattoo. Oops. “Is it warm on the fifth floor? It always seems warmer on the tenth.”

“Well, heat rises, so it might be,” Johnny grins. “That, and you know how much they enjoy walking around shirtless. I think Yuta pretends to be allergic to fabric most of the year.”

Ten laughs. “Him and Lucas both. Doesn’t help that the stylists keep giving Xuxi revealing outfits. And you too, Johnny.”

Not that Ten needs a reminder of it, of course. Every outfit that bares even an extra inch of Johnny’s chest is seared into Ten’s memory.

Johnny’s cheeks do at least turn a little pink, at that. It’s cute - he can be hard to fluster. “Ah, well. I’m glad that it hasn’t happened as much now that it’s even colder outside. Is it warm enough there?”

“Mm,” Ten hums, playing with the strings on his hoodie. “Don’t I look cozy?”

Ten knows he looks cute, all sleepy and rumpled and freshly washed, even if he does feel pretty worn from the busy day they’ve had. How their days seem to get busier and busier as they get closer to the holiday seems like a cruel trick of fate. Hence why he and Johnny are face-timing, rather than squeezing in a coffee run.

Johnny’s eyes crease as he smiles. “Of course, but that’s because you wear hoodies that look like they’re three sizes too big.”

_Only because they remind me of you,_ Ten doesn’t say. He rolls over and falls backwards onto his bed, hair fanning over his pillow as he holds his phone over his face, ignoring the heat in his own cheeks. Hopefully Johnny can’t tell from the camera feed how much he’s blushing.

“Hey, only to sleep in,” Ten replies, making a show of squirming to get more comfortable against the covers underneath him. “It’s _cold,_ you know.”

“Sure, sure,” Johnny laughs. And god, Ten loves the sound of Johnny’s laugh - so bright and warm, it makes something soft curl up in Ten’s chest. Even over the video feed, it’s a beautiful sound.

Ten’s biased, though. And it’s nothing compared to getting to hear Johnny’s laugh in person. Their dorms aren’t even that far apart, but at the end of the day and already showered, neither of them had felt like a field trip even though they still wanted to talk. Thank goodness for technology, honestly.

What Ten wouldn’t give to have Johnny actually here - in bed with him, maybe up against his back and wrapped around Ten like a blanket, their knees slotted together like spoons -

“Hey, you have Christmas music on?” Johnny asks, head tilted as he tries to hear through Ten’s feed.

Oh - does he? Ten listens; he can’t remember what he playlist put on as he was getting ready for bed, though now -

Well. _Now_ it’s Christmas music, of course, since Ten is chatting with Johnny.

“It’s the middle of December, Christmas music is appropriate,” Ten says; warmth flares in his belly at the fact that Johnny noticed. Johnny has noticed _every_ _time_ the music has been changed by Ten’s curse, actually.

Isn’t that some kind of irony.

“It’s appropriate always, duh,” Johnny says, “I’m just surprised that - is that _Coldplay?”_

“Is it?” Ten smiles at Johnny’s easy enthusiasm, how quickly he lights up. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You hadn’t - Ten. You know I love Coldplay.”

“You won’t let me forget,” Ten says with a yawn, grinning at how Johnny scoffs. “I just had it on while I was waiting for you, I wasn’t really listening too closely.”

“Well, I’m here now,” Johnny says, and starts to hum along to the words. _I go singing out of tune, saying how I always loved you, darling, and I always will._ “Tell me about your day?”

Ten’s heart clenches at Johnny’s question, but he smiles as he snuggles in and starts to talk. This may not be exactly what he wishes it would be, but having Johnny like this - as a best friend who he talks to every day, who can be the truest version of himself with - that can be enough, for now.

-❄-

“Ten,” Kun pushes open the door to his bedroom, peeking out of it and raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

Ten looks up from his pretzel-like position on the couch; Louis fell asleep on him an hour ago, and he can’t bring himself to move. His entire left leg feels like pins and needles, but Ten refuses to shift. Being cat furniture is a _blessing._

“What?” Ten asks. The look Kun shoots him is exasperated bordering on annoyed.

“I’m trying to work on recording something I’ve been composing,” Kuns says, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. And now that Ten’s looking, yeah - he does notice that Kun has his nice headphones around his neck.

Ten’s brow furrows. “Okay. Uh, have fun?”

“I would,” Kun says, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, “if the stuff I wrote was actually playing. But the only thing that’s coming out is _Winter Wonderland_.”

Oh. Well, Ten _has_ been browsing the internet, trying to figure out what he wants to get Johnny for Christmas; he’s bought something for everyone else and _still_ hasn’t figured out what to get Johnny.

Maybe he _has_ been stewing in his soft feelings a little bit. Oops.

“Huh,” Ten says, rubbing at his nose. “That’s weird. I think this is the first time it’s happened where I can’t actually hear the music that the curse is changing.”

“Well, it’s _definitely_ Dean Martin,” Kun says, rolling his eyes. “I know because he’s sung this song twice through already, and it is _not_ short.”

Ten bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from grinning. From the look on Kun’s face, it doesn’t really work.

“Sorry,” he says - and Ten _is_ sorry that it’s annoying. He’s just not that sorry for bothering Kun in general, or as a concept. It’s also a little funny, when the curse is inconveniencing someone else. “Give it, uh, fifteen minutes? Then it should go back to normal.”

“Fifteen m- can’t you do anything about it?” Kun’s eyebrows disappear up into his bangs in surprise.

“Not really?” Ten shrugs, sheepish - that’s part of the curse that he really hasn’t put any energy into figuring out.

“ _Ten,”_ Kun groans. “Seriously - I wanted to finish this and post it soon!”

“Can’t it wait a few more minutes?” Ten risks batting his eyelashes, and yelps with laughter when Kun actually lunges at him, patience worn thin.

That’s how Winwin finds them a few minutes later, tussling on the couch - Ten’s phone somewhere on the floor, Louis scared off in the direction of peace and quiet.

“And here I thought Yangyang and Hendery fighting was childlike,” Winwin sighs, barely looking up from his phone as he shuffles by into the kitchen. “I’m the third oldest, do I have to worry about babysitting the two of you too, Ten-ge? Kun-ge?”

“Kun-ge won’t kill me - then he’d have to single parent all of _you_ ,” Ten smirks, and then barks out a laugh at the scoffing noise Kun makes. It’s true, and they both know it.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t get even,” Kun says, and that’s all the warning Ten gets before Kun goes for his sensitive sides, in a low move that usually only their didis pull - tickling.

By the time Kun lets him up and they follow Winwin into the kitchen for a snack, bantering all the while, it’s been far longer than fifteen minutes. Ah, well. Kun’s distraction seems to have worked either way.

-❄-

Ten doesn’t even _risk_ jerking off; it’s entirely out of the question.

Maybe at one point in the distant past, he would have been able to separate the part of his monkey brain that chants _Johnny hot_ from the part of him that likes Johnny as a person and a friend, but that time is long, long gone.

No, Ten’s horny not just for Johnny and his body and his lush lips and dark eyes and long hair. Ten is horny for Johnny’s smile and the way he laughs, for the stupid jokes he tells and the way he checks in on Ten no matter the time of day, no matter when they last saw each other. Ten is gone for the _wanna get coffee?_ texts and how Johnny is so supportive and welcoming even of the members he doesn’t know very well, and -

There’s probably a better word than _horny_ for being into all of that, and somewhere deep in Ten’s chest that feels suspiciously like his heart, he knows what it is. He knows his feelings have long since crossed the line from _crush_ to… love.

But anyway. There’s no way Ten would be able to keep his thoughts away from Johnny once his hand in his pants, so he doesn’t even _try._ Hey, he’s only human - and Johnny has had a _lot_ of hot outfits for his appearances and performances this fall. It’s been a blessing and a curse - ha ha. Ten doesn’t even want to _think_ about what it’s done to his blood pressure.

Knowing Ten’s luck, someone would be playing music when he finally decides to... let off a little steam. It’s too easy to imagine the music changing to something Christmassy, and Kun or Hendery barging in to complain to him without knocking.

Sure, they’ve all seen each other naked before; quick costume changes are a normal thing when you’re an idol. But Ten would really prefer to keep the dick-viewing to a strictly professional level, when it comes to the rest of WayV.

And honestly? Committing to keeping it on lock until this curse stuff is over is easier than _not_ thinking about Johnny. Finding alone time in a dorm of six other people isn’t particularly easy. anyway.

Doesn’t mean that he enjoys it, though. But Ten really has no interest in hearing how much _more_ horny Christmas songs can get, so he’s not gonna push his luck.

Yangyang’s probably traumatized enough from their one horny Christmas song experience as it is.

-❄-

“Can you pass the scissors?”

Ten’s gentle lob hits Hendery in the chest, and he shoots a glare at Ten that lasts about half a second before he’s grinning again. “Thanks. Wow, we’re really making a mess, huh?”

Ten looks up from where he’s carefully taping down the wrapping paper on Lucas’s gift and pointedly scans the _absolute chaos_ around them. He and Hendery have shut themselves in their room to finish preparing their Christmas gifts for WayV and other assorted members of NCT, and much like whenever they do crafty livestreams together, it’s gone a little bit off the deep end.

To be fair, neither of them had anticipated that the glittery wrapping paper they had picked out last week would shed as much as it has. Which is to say, it looks like an elf exploded in their room, with scraps of wrapping paper and ribbon and a layer of glitter covering the floor - _and_ the two of them in the middle of it all, making it worse.

“A _mess_?” Ten smirks. “Call it a stylistic choice in decor.”

“You say that now,” Hendery laughs, sticking his tongue out as he does his best to snip a straight line across the wrapping paper spread out over his half of the floor. “It’s probably going to be less fun in like, four months, when we’re _still_ finding red and green and gold glitter on things.”

Well, that’s probably true.

“A little glitter never hurt anybody,” Ten says. He carefully flattens the last piece of tape and turns Lucas’s gift over in his hands; not bad, for taking the time to wrap something himself rather than having it gift-wrapped in the store.

The handmade look is part of the charm, right? Well, everyone he’s giving gifts to this year better think so.

It’s amazing how quickly December flew by - with how much they’ve done this fall and winter, maybe it shouldn’t be a surprise that it went as fast as it did. When Ten thinks back on it, he _did_ actually do a lot of typical holiday things this year - decorating, shopping, ice skating. Enough to fill the darkening days and chill nights with holiday cheer.

And admittedly, wrapping presents is pretty fun, too. Watching _Hendery_ attempt to wrap presents is pretty fun.

Ten sticks a bright bow to Lucas’s box and sets it aside, in his _finished_ pile. “And here I thought that maybe I didn’t get enough for everybody this year.”

“Oh, yeah?” Hendery looks up, tape stuck to three of the fingers on his left hand as he tries to manhandle the wrapping paper into position. “Did you manage to find something for everyone?”

“I think so?” Ten tilts his head, trying to think through his entire list - not easy, when there are six of WayV plus various members of NCT, SuperM, _and_ their managers.

And - well. And Ten has been doing a moderate amount of agonizing over what to get for -

“Really?” Hendery interrupts his thoughts, tearing a few more pieces of tape off the roll with a few quiet rips. He waggles his eyebrows at Ten. “Even Johnny?”

Ah, Johnny. And that’s exactly what has been on Ten’s mind, these last few days - what, exactly, to get his best friend and… whatever you call it when someone is more than a _crush_.

He wants to get something perfect for Johnny, but what does that even mean? They all make enough money to buy themselves the things that they really want or need. But Ten still wants to get Johnny something that he’ll really like, something a little unexpected, a Christmas surprise.

All Ten wants is to watch Johnny’s face light up in that moment, when he unwraps Ten’s gift. That matters more than exactly what he gets for Johnny, or any of the things Ten might get in return.

Well. If Ten had to say what he truly wants for Christmas this year, it’s not just Johnny’s smile - it’s the entirety of Johnny Suh. But he’s not going to admit that to _Hendery._

Ten narrows his eyes at Hendery, trying to decide whether or not he wants to try and lean across the battlefield of tissue paper and ribbon and wrapped presents to smack his roommate for the _audacity._ He opens his mouth to say as much - Hendery’s wide grin doesn’t even waver - but in the end, he doesn’t even need to.

Because Hendery’s chill playlist morphs into a fast-paced rock beat with the strum of a few guitars and a few rapid hits of a kick drum, an intro that lasts only a few seconds before Kelly Clarkson is belting out, _You’re here, where you should be, snow is falling as the carolers sing -_

Hendery yelps, and Ten can only laugh - what did he _think_ was going to happen, when he brought up Johnny like that? Unlike Kun, Hendery knows _exactly_ how Ten’s curse works.

“Come on,” Ten giggles, leaning back against the side of his bed as Hendery bends forward with a prolonged wordless yell, hands over his ears. “You should have known _that_ was going to happen, Donkey.”

“I forgot we had music on!” Hendery wheezes, laughing - probably at the both of them. “ _Ten-ge_ , this is the _worst._ Can’t you stop it?!”

“We’ve been over this, you know I can’t.” Ten’s face is going to hurt soon, he’s smiling so much. He can’t help it; Hendery’s reaction is _priceless._ He looks like he’s seconds away from rolling in all the glitter they’ve accumulated on the floor between their beds, favorite pink sweatshirt be damned. “We’re just going to have to suffer through Kelly Clarkson until - I dunno. Until you distract me with something else.”

Hendery sits up, blinking at Ten. There’s glitter in his hair, and stuck to one cheek in the imprint where his face touched the floor. “Do you think that will work?”

Ten shrugs, biting his lip to keep his smile in check. “It can’t _hurt._ So far I haven’t quite figured out how to stop the music before it has run its course.”

“Well, I’m willing to try anything for science,” Hendery says, and then winces when Kelly hits another high note. “And to not hear more Christmas songs like this, _god.”_

“I thought you liked pop,” Ten grins, “Hendery, we _make_ pop music.”

“We make _good_ pop music,” Hendery rolls his eyes. “This might be the first playthrough of this song, but I’m getting sick of it already. And we _know_ it’s going to repeat.”

Yeah, well.

“You started it,” Ten points out, and Hendery slumps backwards with a sigh.

“I know,” he says, “Sorry for being a considerate, caring roommate and asking about your nonexistent love life.”

Ten _does_ lean over to ruffle up Hendery’s hair at that, sticking his tongue out when Hendery tries to squirm away ineffectively.

“Nonexistent, huh?” Ten grins despite himself - mostly at the way Hendery’s hair is now sticking upright as well as flecked through with glitter. “And tell me, have you figured out _your_ crush situation with Xiaojun?”

It’s a little gratifying that Hendery turns as pink as his hair. “That’s _different,_ Ten-ge!”

“It’s a crush, it’s not _that_ different -”

Hendery makes a noise like a wounded animal and throws a bow at Ten’s face. It bounces off his nose - and after a tense pause where they stare at each other, it’s all-out chaos. Wrapping paper rips under their knees as Hendery tries to put some distance between them, but Ten’s not gonna give in - not until Hendery gives him the full scoop, because being nosy roommates _absolutely_ goes both ways.

They end up arguing and wrestling for long enough that neither of them notices the music switching back.

-❄-

So the one-off moments haven’t been too bad - especially now that Ten can more or less predict them. In a weird way, the curse has been a companion through the holiday season, a guarantee that December has felt romantic and Christmassy.

It would be nice if December felt romantic and Christmassy because of _actual romance,_ but Ten’s not in a position to be choosy.

But it’s still wearing on him, having to worry about his thoughts, and who knows about the curse, and keeping himself on a laser focus during dance practice and rehearsals. Ten may know _how_ the curse works, but he still has no idea _why_ it’s happening _,_ or what he can possibly do about it besides what he’s already been doing. Which is not thinking about Johnny when it might get him into even more trouble.

Needless to say, it’s been going… not great, especially as they get closer and closer to the holiday.

It all comes to a head during a group dinner, because of course it does. Having Lucas’s phone start playing _Santa Baby_ out of the blue the first time had been a weird glitch - or, at least, that’s what most of WayV believes. But in the weeks since, every member has been subjected to Ten’s curse at _least_ once.

It’s only a matter of time before it happens with all seven of them present once again.

They’re home from a late afternoon practice - at a reasonably human time for a meal, for once. It takes very little haranguing for Yangyang and Winwin to convince Kun to cook for them, buttering him up with praise about his steamed fish and flawless egg technique. They all part ways to shower and change, but it’s not long before everyone has reconvened in the kitchen, comfortable and tired but relaxed.

Ten doesn’t even notice when, exactly, Xiaojun puts some music on - but the soft beats and acoustic guitar are nice, the perfect end to a busy day. Kun hums as he pokes at whatever is in his wok and occasionally stirs the pot next to it, steam rising into the room in lazy curls. Winwin and Yangyang tap at their phones, playing some game side-by-side that has them heckling and elbowing each other, albeit more casually than usual.

“Smells good,” Lucas says, wandering in as he towels his hair. He looks adorably rumpled, though Ten has no idea how he’s warm enough in that thin tank top. It’s no surprise that Lucas moves right over to Kun, peeking over his shoulder to look down at the pan. At least it’s a little amusing, how Kun’s cheeks start to go red at Lucas’s approach. “You sure you don’t need any help?”

“From any of you?” Kun laughs and shakes his head, shooing Lucas away with a gentle pat of his hand. He brandishes his spatula in a teasing warning. “I can only take on one student at a time, and Winwin’s on probation after what he did to that stir fry on Tuesday.”

“Hey,” Winwin complains, cheeks heating. “You said I’ve been improving a lot!”

“ _Improving_ and _cooking something edible_ are two different things,” Kun dimples a smile at Winwin anyway. “You _have_ been getting better, but leave cooking meat to me for now.”

Ten snorts, not looking up from his instagram feed. Winwin’s cooking is getting closer to palatable, though he’s nowhere near Kun’s expert level. But it’s no secret that everyone is biased towards Winwin, anyway.

Honestly, who can resist that giggle, or those ears?

“No complaints here,” Yangyang yawns. He stretches his arms behind him, tweaking the shell of Winwin’s right ear. “You’ll get there, Winwinnie. Then you can cook for me, too!”

“You’re such a brat, didi,” Winwin sighs and paws back at Yangyang, tugging at the earring he can reach. He barely glances up from his game, grinning when Yangyang squawks. “Asking me to cook for you, when you haven’t even thanked Kun for tonight’s dinner!”

“You’re all ungrateful, the lot of you,” Kun grumbles, rolling his eyes at the unfolding poke-fight between Winwin and Yangyang as they try to distract each other from their game. “Ten, can’t you get them to behave?”

“Oh, please,” Ten cracks a grin, pillowing his chin in one palm to watch. “They barely listen to you, I have no hope of getting them to listen to _me_.”

Lucas just laughs. “I thought the rule was we had to listen to Kun while we’re in the kitchen? It’s _his_ kitchen, after all. We would have starved a long time ago if it weren’t for his cooking.”

“Eh,” Yangyang shrugs one shoulder. “I know where Kun’s hidden snack supply is. We’d last at least a few days on that alone.”

“ _Yangyang_ ,” Kun shakes his head, sighing, and there’s a chorus of laughter at the pained look of exasperation on his face.

They keep chatting as Kun cooks, Hendery finally joining them from his shower to complete the group. Ten smiles as he looks around the table, all of them assembled - as much as they spend most of their waking hours together, it’s still nice to sit down for a meal. Especially this time of year.

But maybe that’s just all the holiday music turning him into a sap.

Ten genuinely loves spending time with his members - and the rest of NCT, when they get the chance. It’s part of what made the album release this fall so special, getting to record and make music videos and do promotions with members he wishes he got to see more often. And the Christmas party will be fun, too - Johnny keeps telling him about all the preparations Taeyong is making, and it sounds like it will be the perfect way to celebrate together.

He’s still not sure what he’s going to wear - partly it depends on if any of it will be filmed, though certainly some photos will make it onto various members’ social media - but Johnny had given Ten a preview of a _truly_ garish Christmas sweater, and -

“Oh _no,”_ Xiaojun moans, burying his face in one hand as he rapidly taps at his phone. “It’s _happening again!”_

“What’s happening?” Yangyang leans over to look, but by then it’s obvious - the music pouring out of Xiaojun’s phone has changed from lowkey acoustic guitar to something bright and staccato on the piano, punctuated with sleigh bells as a female voice starts to sing.

_The snow is falling down outside my window…the roads are closed, there’s nowhere we can go - and I wanna be with somebody, this time of year is better that way..._

“Oh my god,” Hendery mutters, cutting a glance at Ten even as his eyes crease in mirth - and _shit,_ Ten hadn’t realized his thoughts were spiraling in that direction so fast, but -

“Okay, that’s it,” Kun says loudly. He turns off the burners with a flick of his wrist, the gas snapping as the flame disappears from underneath his wok. Six pairs of eyes lock on Kun as he pulls out a chair, the feet scraping harshly against the floor, and he sits with a thud.

Kun points his spatula at Ten and holds it there, until the rest of their members are glancing between them nervously. Ten’s stomach twists on itself at Kun’s firm expression, the unwavering line of his mouth. The music still rings out around them, bright and cheerful despite the tension in the air.

Uh oh. Ten has a bad feeling about this.

“This has gone on long enough,” Kun says, crossing his arms over his chest, spatula included. “It’s only been getting worse, and everyone deserves an explanation if we’re going to endure musical torture. I’m calling a family emergency. So: Ten. Spill.”

Ten flushes as everyone’s faces swivel towards him, the knot of tension in his belly growing. “Seriously, Kun-ge? I have it under control.”

“No you don’t,” Hendery mutters, and Ten jabs at him under the table with his heel.

It’s not subtle, the way the rest of WayV is exchanging uneasy glances. They rarely have disagreements that escalate to something like this - most of the time it’s teasing and banter, and one-on-one conversations when things go too far and apologies are needed. But this is something different.

Ten never meant to keep his members in the dark about what’s going on; maybe it _is_ time that they deserve an explanation.

“Okay,” Ten delfates a little, squirming in his chair under the pressure of his members’ attention. Jeez, Kun is scary. “Uh. So you probably noticed lately that this thing keeps happening, where Christmas music plays randomly? Like out of nowhere. Or the same song repeats over and over, and -”

“Like on the radio last week?” Xiaojun interrupts, brows furrowed.

“Or during my live?” Yangyang adds, “or that time I found you in the practice room, or -”

“Yes, all of those times,” Ten ignores the warmth in his cheeks, waving away Yangyang’s list. “And right now. It hasn’t been random - not exactly. The truth is, uh -”

Ten waffles, stumbling over the words, and -

“Ten is cursed,” Kun says, and there’s a long pause - followed by an absolute _eruption_ of noise.

“You’re _what?!”_ Yangyang nearly shouts; Ten isn’t surprised that he looks equal parts shocked _and_ delighted.

“There is no such thing as curses,” Xiaojun says, over Winwin’s high, nervous laughter. Hendery makes an appropriately surprised face, if a few seconds too late - Ten glares at him for being overly dramatic when he says _oh my god!_ at the top of his lungs.

“There _is_ such thing as curses,” Ten says grimly, “and I have one. So, uh. Sorry about the Christmas music?”

“Hold up, hold up,” Lucas says, raising his hands in a placating gesture. There’s still a fair amount of noise echoing in their tiny dorm kitchen, but thankfully the rest of them quiet down to listen. “How do you know you’re cursed?”

Ten purses his lips. This is exactly what he was afraid of. “Let’s just say... we’ve done some experiments, and there’s nothing else it could be.”

“Wait, that means you’ve been cursed for, like, weeks? And you didn’t tell us?” Yangyang narrows his eyes. Ten knows that looks; it’s not a good sign. There’s already a smirk playing at the corner of Yangyang’s lips.

“Well, I didn’t figure it out at first,” Ten huffs and crosses his arms over his chest protectively. He knew that there would be an interrogation if it came out - he shoots a glare in Kun’s direction. As if _his_ needling hasn’t been frustrating enough since he’d found out. “What was I supposed to say to make you believe me?”

“Hmm, that’s true,” Winwin says, scratching his chin. “I believed it coming from Kun-ge, but when you asked me if I thought curses were real a few weeks ago I thought it was just Hendery pranking you.”

“Hey!” Hendery laughs, half-affronted. Ten rolls his eyes.

“So - what? How does it work?” Xiaojun’s brows are still adorably furrowed in a confused frown. The expression is more pronounced on him out of all of them, given how his brows are back to their full dark strength. “You just, what? You hear Christmas music and -”

“We haven’t figured out what causes it,” Kun cuts in smoothly, trying to calm the room - ever the mediator.

Hendery’s eyes brighten mischievously, and he giggles. “Uh, we _totally_ know what causes it.”

Goddamnit. There’s no stopping the force of Ten’s blush now, and he buries his face in his hands. “You are the _worst_ roommate, oh my god.”

“You told _Hendery?_ And not me?” Kun says, incredulity making his eyebrows fly up.

“To be fair, I kind of figured it out on my own,” Hendery pats at Kun’s hand, like _that’s_ any comfort to anyone. Ten’s face burns.

“Then it should be even easier to avoid triggering the curse, right?” Lucas asks, “if you know what causes the music to do… that.”

Oh, if only.

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Ten hedges. He can _feel_ Hendery’s gaze on the side of his face, _god._ He’s not going to be able to get out of this conversation without telling them the whole thing, huh?

Why are his members persistent and observant only when it makes Ten’s life a pain? _Honestly._

“You don’t have to tell us,” Xiaojun reaches a hand across the table to gently pull one of Ten’s hands away from his face by the wrist, his tone soft. He is Ten’s favorite now. “We just want to help.”

“ _Help,”_ Ten laughs, a little bitterly. “Well, _I_ certainly haven’t figured out what to do about it, besides…”

“Besides what?” Kun tilts his head.

_Besides confessing._ But Ten isn’t even gonna _go_ there.

Ten exhales a long breath through his nose. He puts his palms flat on the table, resisting the urge to pick at the string on the cuff of his hoodie or curl his hands into anxious fists. WayV is his family; he trusts them. They deserve to know.

Doesn’t mean they won’t poke fun at him for this, but he knows they will be there for him. It makes the next bit at least a _little_ bit easier to say, even if his heart is still tripping over itself in his chest, his stomach flip-flopping with nerves.

“The curse triggers when I think about my... crush,” Ten admits, biting his lower lip. His voice has gone soft; for the first time since this conversation started, the kitchen is quiet - except for the Christmas song still playing, because of course it is. “So. Y’know. Johnny.”

“Ahhh,” Kun says, voicing the collective realization that is echoed around the table. He leans back in his chair, nodding to himself. “Romantic thoughts trigger romantic music. That makes at least a little sense.”

Lucas and Winwin exchange glances, the latter humming in agreement; the crease between Xiaojun’s brows clears in understanding. Yangyang looks surprisingly empathetic, for once, rather than cracking an immediate joke at Ten’s expense. Hendery - the only one of them that had already known the full extent of Ten’s curse - shrugs.

“How do you stop yourself from thinking about him, though?” Xiaojun asks, looking up at Ten through his dark bangs. “That doesn’t sound… fun. Or easy.”

“Getting plagued by Christmas music is even _less_ fun,” Hendery says, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. “Believe me, it’s been a weird December.”

“You’re not even the one who’s cursed,” Ten snorts, but Hendery’s right. He knows it hasn’t been particularly easy on all of them. “Sorry about all the times it’s happened, by the way. Xiaojun’s right, it’s not particularly… easy. To not think about something.”

“Some _one,”_ Yangyang corrects with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Ten huffs. “Yes, thank you.”

“Well, what about breaking the curse?” Winwin says, cheek cupped in one palm. There’s a beat of silence as everyone turns to look at him. Winwin blinks at the sudden attention. “What? It’s a curse. Curses can be broken.”

Ten stares. Honestly, he’s not sure why he didn’t think of this himself. Well - he _has_ been busy trying to keep himself thoroughly and completely distracted from triggering the curse in the first place, between their practices and various life things.

And spending time with Johnny himself, of course. There’s been plenty of that.

“Break the curse,” Ten repeats, trying out how the words feel in his mouth. _Break the curse._

Needless to say, _breaking_ the curse hadn’t even crossed his mind. Even before he’d been cursed, Ten’s thoughts had often been centered around Johnny, so _that_ aspect of this whole ordeal hasn’t been that abnormal. Trying _not_ to think about him has been a different story.

So Ten has a Johnny problem. That’s kind of why they’re all here, anyway.

“I mean, sure,” Kun says slowly, still looking at Winwin, “but we’ve never even heard of a curse being _real_ before, let alone how we might be able to break one -”

“Oh, come on,” Yangyang clucks his tongue and digs his phone out of his pocket, immediately starting to type away. “That’s what the _internet_ is for, Kun-ge. You know, the thing you can access with the tap of a button, contains the mass collected knowledge of the human race -”

“And cat memes,” Hendery adds.

“And cat memes,” Yangyang nods, solemn.

“Very funny,” Kun grins despite himself; he’s swiping to unlock his phone as well. “Okay then, Sherlock, where do we even start?”

“I’m no expert,” Yangyang says loftily, as if settling in for a lecture - admittedly, it’s a decent impression of how Kun gets when he wants to talk about musical theory to the rest of them - “but there’s gotta be something out there we can at least start with.”

“Reading creepypastas doesn’t count as expertise,” Xiaojun rolls his eyes, trying to duck when Yangyang bats at him with his free hand. “Ow, you demon. You aren’t even superstitious!”

“We know how the curse gets triggered, and roughly how long you’ve been cursed, right?” Lucas says, ignoring the chaos unfolding at the other end of the table. He gestures to Ten with one large hand; Ten nods, watching as Lucas’s mouth flattens into a line as he thinks. “Do you remember where you were when it happened? Who was there?”

_Johnny._ Johnny had been there the first few times they had noticed the repeating Christmas songs - he had often been the one to point it out to Ten, actually. But that’s just evidence that the curse was already on him, not how Ten may have gotten it.

“You think someone may have put the curse on Ten,” Kun surmises, looking up from his phone.

“How else do people get curses?” Hendery asks. His wry smile quickly drops from his face as he thinks. “Oh, shit - how else _do_ people get curses?”

“Plenty of things,” Winwin shrugs, scrolling through an article. “Figuring out how it happened might be tough, though. Especially if it’s been almost a month. I can’t remember what we were doing a month ago, who we might have been with.”

“I can’t remember what I had for _breakfast_ this morning,” Lucas admits with a smile, and there’s a chorus of laughter around the table. Kun pats Lucas’s arm comfortingly even as he grins.

The tension in Ten’s shoulders had already started to unwind as the conversation progressed, but this settles the last of the unease in his gut. He shouldn’t have been so worried about telling his friends. Immediately jumping from _Ten is cursed_ to _Ten is cursed and we can break it_ is so perfectly WayV it warms Ten’s heart.

“Are there fortune tellers or something like that we can go to?” Lucas asks, not looking up from where his big hands cradle his phone. “That’s what my grandmother would say to do.”

“It’s not like a fortune teller is a doctor who can, like, _diagnose_ this,” Yangyang points out.

Lucas half-shrugs. “It _kinda_ is. At least according to her. But we’re in Seoul, not Hong Kong.”

“We could burn some sage, or whatever it is?” Hendery suggests, and it nearly makes Ten laugh, how quickly Yangyang lights up and Kun frowns.

“We are _absolutely_ not setting anything on fire,” Kun says. Yangyang opens his mouth, and Kun’s quick to amend: “Even on purpose. No way.”

“You’re no fun, Kun-ge,” Yangyang pouts.

“We’re trying to _break my curse,_ not have fun,” Ten points out.

“Also - fire alarms are not _fun._ Not in the winter, anyway,” Kun rolls his eyes. “Don’t you remember what happened last January?”

There’s a collective sigh around the table. Oh, they remember. And Kun isn’t going to let them forget about the Kitchen Incident of 2019 anytime soon.

There’s a minute or two of quiet as the conversation settles and they all turn towards their phones, poking around the internet and occasionally showing each other something that looks promising.

Ten answers whatever questions he can - no, he doesn’t remember what they were doing at the end of November either, at least not any more specifically than promoting _90s Love_ and _Work It_ and then _Resonance._ And no, he doesn’t think he has any bad blood with anyone - and _no,_ Jaemin may have gremlin energy but he can’t even do tarot cards right, let alone execute a working curse -

The holiday music plays in the background all the while, jingle bells overlaid on plucky piano and vocals all about getting _cuddled up._

“So Johnny, huh,” Yangyang looks up from his screen with a shark-like smile, fixing Ten with an expression that looks _far_ too smug. “That explains some things about the album this fall.”

“What things?” Ten tries not to sound defensive, but judging from the way Hendery _also_ glances up and grins, he fails on both counts.

“Come on,” Yangyang giggles, putting his chin in his hand as his phone screen goes dark. “You didn’t think we were dumb, did you?”

Ten rolls his eyes. “I consider it, sometimes.”

“ _Ten_ ,” Kun sighs, his tone a warning that Ten is absolutely going to ignore.

“Anyone with _eyes_ can see the way you look at each other,” Yangyang continues, eyebrows raised and his grin fixed firmly in place. “I thought Hendery was imagining things at first when he told me, but then I went back and watched that blue room thing -”

“Yangyang-ah, don’t tease,” Lucas says, glancing between their youngest member and Ten’s reddening face.

“I’m not!” Yangyang replies, “I’m just saying -”

“If you don’t want to hear this Christmas song literally forever, you won’t say anything else,” Ten says. Yangyang squints at him suspiciously, but at least he doesn’t continue. “Besides, it’s - it’s nothing. Johnny and I are just friends.”

“But you don’t want to be,” Xiaojun hums. “ _Just_ friends, that is.”

It’s as close as they’ve come to really touching on Ten’s feelings, and he swallows thickly around the tightness in his throat. Under the table, Ten feels Hendery place a hand on his knee, squeezing in comfort.

Ten doesn’t get the chance to respond - because Winwin makes a soft noise in the back of his throat and flicks his eyes up to Ten with wry amusement. “What about - um.”

“What about _what_?” Ten’s eyebrows climb as Winwin’s expression turns bashful, and he giggles behind the hand raised to his mouth. The tips of Winwin’s ears are starting to turn red, too.

It’s hard to tell if that’s a good sign or a bad sign, given the direction of the conversation.

“I just remembered,” Winwin finally says, lowering his hand to fidget with the cuffs of his sleeves and grinning, if a little nervously, “how curses are often broken in, like, fairy tales -”

“Oh?” Hendery leans in - actually, _all_ of them lean in, chairs scraping against the floor as all attention centers on Winwin. Ten can’t help himself; of course he’s curious. An actual way to break the curse would be a _godsend._

“Hear me out on this - I’m being serious,” Winwin says, tilting back in his chair. He pauses, licking his lips. “True love’s kiss.”

Ten blinks. He’s pretty sure the blush on his cheeks is going to be a permanent fixture at this point. Because there’s only one image that floods into his mind at those words, familiar dark eyes that lock on him and plush lips that press to his -

Also, the unified intake of breath around the table is actually _audible._

“That’s only a thing in fairy tales,” Kun says, though he doesn’t sound entirely convinced of that fact as he says it.

“So are curses,” Lucas counters, eyebrows raised, “and I mean, if curses are possible…”

“It’s ridiculous -” Yangyang starts.

“It’s _romantic,_ isn’t it?” Xiaojun rests his chin on one palm, eyes half-lidded. “Ten’s curse is kind of romantic to begin with, it stands to reason -”

“That he needs to be kissed? I could have told you that weeks ago,” Hendery huffs. Ten gently slaps at Hendery’s hand still resting by his knee. Hendery only grins at him in response, unrepentant.

“Winwin, you’ve been watching too many princess movies,” Yangyang says.

“Hey, don’t insult Winderella,” Lucas holds up a protective hand between Yangyang and Winwin as the younger starts to reach across the table, and Ten can sense all hell about to break loose with their steady increase in volume.

Kun can too, apparently. “Hey - calm down. It was just a suggestion,” he says, wrapping an arm around Yangyang to keep him firmly in his seat. Yangyang pouts, even as he curls into Kun’s side, ever willing to accept attention in any form. “Ten - we’ll figure it out. It doesn’t hurt to keep in mind, though.”

“Oh, I don’t mind.” Ten brushes his bangs away from his face, giving Winwin a sly smile. “You want me to kiss you that bad, Winwinnie? Well, if you insist -”

Winwin nearly tumbles out of his seat in his attempt to lean back, away from Ten’s approach over the table - and they laugh as Lucas catches the back of Winwin’s chair to keep him upright.

“Well, we’ll keep thinking about it,” Kun pats at Yangyang’s shoulder and stands again, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn. “ _I’m_ going to get back to cooking. Can you hooligans not kill each other for fifteen minutes while this simmers?”

“Maybe,” Xiaojun answers, at the same time Hendery and Yangyang say “No.”

They exchange glances around the table and break out giggling. Finally, some of the tension seems to be leaking out of the room. Ten’s chest feels lighter, at least - whether that’s from finally telling his members or the fact it finally feels like there’s maybe a path forward to finding a resolution to the curse, he doesn’t know.

“But really,” Hendery leans in to whisper to Ten, when the rest of their friends are preoccupied again with bantering and grabbing bowls and bothering Kun. “You should just kiss him.”

Ten pouts, and prods Hendery in the ribs with his elbows a few times. “I’m not going to ask anyone to kiss me out of _obligation_. That - that makes it _worse._ And what if -”

_And what if it doesn’t work?_ That traitorous little voice of doubt whispers in Ten’s head. _What if Johnny -_

Hendery’s eyes are warm as he gives Ten a private smile. “Not possible. He’d kiss you anyway, I’m sure of it.”

“We’re _best friends,_ I’m not going to risk it, _”_ Ten sighs. “And it’s _Johnny._ He’d do that to help out _anybody,_ he’s just that kind of person.”

“Mmm,” Hendery tilts his head, considering. His pink hair is fading, but it still makes him look particularly soft as it falls into his eyes. “You know, I got to know him through _Work It,_ too. He’s a good friend, but I don’t think friends talk about each other the way he talks about you. Or _looks_ at you. I don’t know how you haven’t seen it.”

Ten has to resist squirming in his seat as something in his chest flip-flops, his heart squeezing with what feels dangerously like _hope._ He’s not sure anyone else notices it, but the Christmas music that’s _still_ playing swells a little bit louder, too.

Damnit.

“I’ll… we’ll see,” Ten finally says, glancing away from Hendery’s too-honest gaze. “We’ll figure some way to break the curse sooner rather than later.”

“Better be sooner,” Yangyang says, engrossed in his phone but very obviously eavesdropping, the little shit. “You’ve only got a couple days before the Christmas party, and I do _not_ want to hear Mariah Carey thirty times in a row because you’re in the same room as Johnny.”

“Oh, shit, the Christmas party,” Lucas looks up with wide eyes, mouth parted in surprise that quickly turns to delight. “That’s already this week! Everybody will be there!”

Fuck, that’s right. _Everybody_ will be there. All twenty-three of them in one room to celebrate the holiday, undoubtedly with good food and ridiculous sweaters and _music._

Ten’s forehead makes a satisfying _thunk_ as it hits their kitchen table and he groans, the good-natured laughter of his members echoing in his ears. Hendery pats his shoulder in consolation. At least the table is cool against Ten’s flushed cheeks.

It’s almost Christmas, and Ten is _still cursed_. And he only has three days to figure something out before he tortures the entirety of NCity with romantic holiday music.

Well. Maybe it’s going to be a Christmas that everyone remembers for a long, long time.

-❄-

Even with the curse hanging over his head, Ten can’t help but be excited about the Christmas party.

Halloween didn’t really happen this year, at least not with all of them together across subunits - WayV’s princess shenanigans notwithstanding, though certainly _noteworthy_ \- and after such a successful but busy fall with their new album, a party seems very much overdue. They deserve some time to relax and enjoy themselves and celebrate together, to gather before everyone scatters home for the holiday.

Of all the things that happened this past year, Ten isn’t surprised to find that he really loves getting to work with his fellow members - _all_ of his fellow members, not just WayV. Ringing in the holidays together feels like an extension of the camaraderie they built with NCT 2020 - and Ten doesn’t want to let go of that just yet.

Also, Ten’s been around long enough to know that when NCT throws a party, it’s a _party._ Even if Taeyong is at the reins and trying to keep things under control, there are _twenty-three_ of them now. There are, like, _five_ maknaes, and one of them is _Yangyang._ Of course there is going to be some good ol’ holiday chaos.

On the day of the party, WayV walks over together from their dorm building in a giggling throng, all bundled up in coats and scarves for their block-and-a-half journey to the 127 dorm. Yangyang and Lucas skip ahead to the front, all extroverted energy; Kun hollers at them from the back of the pack to watch out for black ice and not trip and fall on their faces. Xiaojun and Hendery have linked arms - Ten can’t help but grin and observe them as he cuddles into Winwin, hands clasped to keep warm.

“Did they have to choose the coldest day of the year for this party?” Winwin mumbles, teeth chattering.

Ten laughs; he can see his breath in the night air in front of him, caught in a shivery mist by the street lamps. “Tyong chose today because it’s _Christmas Eve,_ Winwinnie. Weather has nothing to do with it.”

“And so I suffer,” Winwin sighs.

“The weather report _did_ say it might snow tonight,” Hendery says brightly, looking over his shoulder at them with a broad grin. “We still haven’t gotten any that’s stuck around for more than an hour or two!”

“As long as we’re not walking home in a blizzard,” Xiaojun says, voice muffled by his scarf, his ears a flush pink.

Kun rolls his eyes. “We live _four minutes_ away. I don’t think a blizzard could stop us from walking home.”

“Spoken like someone who’s never lived somewhere with _real_ snow,” Yangyang calls. “Seriously, in Germany it could get, like, _meters_ deep. Taller than Xuxi, even!”

“Ah, then maybe you do have something to worry about, Xiaojun,” Hendery teases. “You’re the shortest one of us, we don’t want you getting lost in the snow!”

Xiaojun pretends to trip Hendery and they laugh, the bright sound echoing against the buildings of their quiet street. There are some other people hurrying to and fro - carrying packages and trying to get inside and out of the cold - but otherwise it’s serene and empty.

Now that Ten’s thinking about it, the air even _smells_ a little like oncoming snow, and he smiles despite the chill against his cheeks. Perfect weather for staying in and warming up with some hot chocolate. Or wine, if you’re Jungwoo.

Or both, if you’re Ten.

The walk is quick; in no time at all they’re tramping into the dorm building’s lobby. They squeeze into the elevator despite their overly-puffy coats, laughing as Kun scolds them for making so much noise as they take the ride up to the fifth floor. Ten has no idea how they’re going to fit all twenty-three of them into a single five-person apartment, but hey - that’s part of the fun of a holiday party, right? Everyone being in one place together?

At least it’s the fifth floor, actually. There may be a little more living space upstairs on the tenth floor, but Ten’s seen the photos, even if he hasn’t been there in a while. They still drink gatorade out of _wine glasses_ since they don’t have enough cups for just the six of them.

When they tumble out of the elevator, they can already hear the noise coming from the 127 dorm. Ten smirks, exchanging glances with Kun. This is going to be _fun._

Ten has a plan: he’s going to do his best just to focus on having a great time and _not_ think about his curse and _not_ think about his crush, hopefully have a few glasses of something alcoholic to loosen up and enjoy the shenanigans of his fellow members.

Maybe he’ll get _really_ wild and get into another dance-off with Donghyuck. Maybe they can rope Shotaro in - Ten’s seen his TikToks, and there’s no way Shotaro should be saving his skills only for the stage.

Kun barely knocks before the door is swinging open to reveal Yuta, beer bottle in hand.

“Took you long enough!” he says, reaching through the flock of them to grab Winwin’s wrist and tug him inside, much to everyone’s amusement. So _that’s_ the kind of night it’s going to be. “WayV’s finally here, everybody!”

There’s a chorus of cheers from inside the apartment - Kun winces at the volume, which only makes Hendery laugh again - and they shuffle inside in Winwin’s wake.

“We have _got_ to get you a drink,” Lucas says, throwing an arm around Kun’s neck companionably. “C’mon. No being responsible, only having fun. It’s Christmas, Kun-ge!”

It’s amazing how quickly everyone disappears into the chaos of the party - even Lucas, who is so tall that he should pretty always be visible. Ten chuckles as Yangyang immediately peels away in the direction of the other ‘00 liners, making a beeline for where Haechan and Renjun are already arguing about something by the Christmas tree. From the faces Ten sees, most of their members are here, though scattered through the apartment. He can hear the chatter of voices coming from the kitchen, too, and Mark’s distinctive laugh from down the hall to Johnny and Taeyong’s rooms.

Ten’s stomach flip-flops. _Johnny._ He can be chill for tonight, and just stay distracted by… well, everyone else. And judging by how happy but frazzled Taeyong looks when he hurries by, collecting their coats as he goes, there are already shenanigans happening.

Like Ten expects anything less from NCT.

“Ten-ge, don’t just stand there,” Hendery says, waggling his eyebrows. “It’s a party! And we know everyone here!”

“Of course we know everyone here,” Ten laughs. He feels warm from the cheerful atmosphere and scent of something spiced in the air - was Taeyong baking this afternoon? “I’ll need at least one drink in me before I start dancing.”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” Xiaojun smirks, “you don’t need any reason to dance.”

“Are you offering?” Ten bats his eyelashes, and grins when Hendery pretends to pout and move between them, shielding Xiaojun from Ten’s flirting.

“Go find your own dance partner,” Hendery says, and Ten sees the moment when his eyes start to gleam impishly. “Where is he, anyway? I would’ve thought he’d appear as soon as you walked in -”

“Who are you looking for?” Jisung asks, leaning over the arm of the couch towards them. He’s squeezed in next to Chenle and Jeno, who are engrossed in some rowdy hand-slapping game. Both are wearing garishly bright Christmas sweaters; Jeno’s has a big white dog on it complete with real, tiny bells.

Ten ruffles Jisung’s hair affectionately, smiling when he wrinkles his nose. He can’t help it; their maknae is just always so _cute_. Cuter than Yangyang, at least. Even on this most jolly day of the year, Yangyang is a little devil.

“Johnny-hyung,” Hendery answers. “Have you seen him, Jisungie?”

Jisung waves vaguely behind him, in the direction of the kitchen. “He’s here somewhere - he lives on the fifth floor, doesn’t he?”

“I did see him earlier,” Sungchan says from his seat by Jisung’s feet, voice muffled as he takes a large bite of cookie. He’s wearing reindeer antlers, which make him nearly as adorable as Jisung, with his flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “But he can’t be far. The dorm isn’t _that_ big.”

Ten stops himself from rolling his eyes. That’s part of the _problem._ He doesn’t want to avoid Johnny, exactly - but it’s hard to think of another solution to keeping the curse at bay tonight.

“Thanks,” Ten says, squeezing past Hendery and Xiaojun to head in the direction of the kitchen anyway. At least that’s where the drinks will be. “Stay out of trouble, Donkey!”

“ _I’m_ not the one I’m worried about!” Hendery calls out in reply as Ten moves away, voice laced with amusement. God, Ten needs something to drink. Then, at least, he can blame the flush in his cheeks on the booze.

The kitchen is even more packed than the living room, with clusters of members engaged in conversation and snacking on the treats Taeyong has laid out, or serving themselves more hot chocolate - spiked, probably. Lucas is in the middle of pouring extra whiskey into Kun’s cup; Kun winces, but doesn’t object as Lucas tops him up and then urges him to give it a taste.

Ten grins. Maybe Kun _will_ manage to have fun tonight, if Lucas is monitoring his alcohol consumption. He watches as they shuffle out of the room together, drinks in hand. If anyone can show Kun how to have fun, for once, it’s Lucas.

Jungwoo is perched on the counter, sipping red wine from a glass as he and Taeil watch Doyoung try to protect Shotaro from… whatever drunk Jaemin and Jaehyun are doing. It involves something with marshmallows from the hot chocolate station.

It _does_ look pretty entertaining, actually. And Shotaro doesn’t look too scarred yet, so Ten counts that as a win for Doyoung.

“Ten-hyung!” Jungwoo calls when he spots him lingering in the doorway, and when Ten approaches, Jungwoo doesn’t hesitate to wind his arms around him. “Did you want something to drink?”

“Yes please,” Ten says, leaning back into Jungwoo’s embrace. “Is everything spiked at this point?”

“Oh, of course,” Taeil grins. Apparently he’s not even trying to _pretend_ to be the most responsible member here, even if he is the oldest. His Christmas sweater has a giant moon on it, bisected by the silhouette of Santa’s sleigh and reindeers. The red nose on Rudolph lights up, blinking on and off as Ten watches. “If you don’t want to get totally trashed, watch out for the egg nog. The cocoa’s pretty safe, though.”

“And the wine,” Jungwoo adds, swirling the red in his glass. “There’s mulled wine if you like it warm, and more in the fridge, too.”

Ten laughs. “Thanks,” he says, and extracts himself from Jungwoo’s hug to look for a cup.

Cocoa acquired, Ten lingers in the kitchen for a while, greeting members as they come and go. Sungchan comes to find Shotaro after not too long, claiming they’re going to play another new game in the living room that he has to try - which leaves Doyoung free to scold Jaehyun without any of their youngest members present.

“You could at least _pretend_ to be normal,” Doyoung sighs, arms crossed but trying to fight off a smile - Jaehyun is dimpling pretty aggressively at him. “Shotaro really looks up to you, you know.”

“It’s Christmas, Doyoungie,” Jungwoo says, coming to his roommate’s defense - sort of. “If what Jaehyun wants for Christmas is to choke on marshmallows, you should let him have his Christmas wish.”

“Yeah, _Doyoungie,”_ Jaehyun leans into Doyoung’s space and wraps his arms around Doyoung’s waist. Ten bites his lip to stop from grinning; drunk Jaehyun is _not_ subtle.

Jaemin leans against the counter next to Ten, slinging an arm around his shoulders. He smirks, bending towards Ten’s ear so he can mutter, “Jaehyun would rather be choking on something _else_ for Christmas, actually.”

Ten nearly snorts spiked hot chocolate out of his nose.

“Nana!” Ten scolds - or pretends to scold, once he’s done gasping for air. He’s probably giggling too hard for Jaemin to take him seriously; his face hurts from smiling so hard. Jaemin just keeps grinning; he may as well be wearing devil horns, not the headband with a giant red Christmas bow tilted jauntily to one side. Thankfully, Jaehyun and Doyoung seem to be too wrapped up in teasing each other again to have heard. “Nana, you can’t _say_ that.”

“What? It’s true,” Jaemin just shrugs. “I call it like I see it. Just watch, you’ll get sick enough of the two of them by the end of the night.”

“That Christmas vibe, huh?” Jungwoo drains the rest of his wine and smacks his lips. “You can practically smell the romance in the air.”

Ten laughs. “That’s Taeyong’s gingerbread cookies.”

“Same thing,” Jungwoo dismisses the thought with a wave. He looks down at Ten and fusses with his bangs, pushing them away from Ten’s eyes. “Where’s your boy, by the way?”

“I thought you would’ve been attached at the hip by now,” Jaemin adds with a raised eyebrow, and Ten glances back and forth between them, cheeks heating. “My boy?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer.

Jaemin looks _far_ too knowing. “Johnny-hyung, of course.”

“Oh, I -” Ten fumbles, “I haven’t seen him yet tonight.”

“What are you waiting for?” Taeil gestures with a nod of his head towards the doorway, back towards the rest of the apartment and the vibrant party. “He said he was looking for you, before you all got here.”

Something in Ten’s chest goes warm and melty - and from the way Jaemin’s smile widens, Ten’s certain it shows on his face. Damnit. “He did?”

It’s not _that_ much of a surprise - Johnny had told Ten that much himself, in the days leading up to this party. They haven’t gotten the chance to meet up in more than a week now, with their busy schedules and the impending holiday.

Curse aside, Ten’s been looking forward to seeing Johnny, too. And not just because he’s been talking a big holiday outfit game.

Jungwoo rolls his eyes, but not unkindly. “ _Honestly._ And I thought the two of you _literally_ dancing around each other during Work It was bad enough.”

“Don’t tease, Jungwoo,” Taeil says, patting at Jungwoo’s thigh on the counter next to him. “Last I saw him, Johnny was in his room, I think? You should go find him.”

Ten chuckles, downing the rest of the hot cocoa in his cup. It burns his tongue a little bit, both from the heat and the liquor. “Am I being kicked out of the kitchen?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Jaemin and Jungwoo say at the same time, both of them pushing gently at his shoulders. Ten actually laughs at that, letting himself be propelled away from them and towards the open doorway.

Well, maybe he’ll get a refill of cocoa, first. Liquid courage, and all that.

When he steps out into the living room - full cup in hand, Jungwoo and Jaemin’s encouraging cheers following him - Ten finds that the group has entirely reshuffled themselves. Mark and Donghyuck nearly bowl him over as they chase each other into the kitchen - Mark lights up when he sees Ten, but only manages a brief _hi,Ten-hyung!_ before Donghyuck grabs him by the hand and he disappears. There are even more Dreamies crammed onto the couch together, more than a single piece of furniture should probably hold for structural integrity’s sake, and Lucas is proudly showing off his red-and-white _SANTA BABY_ shirt to them.

Ten smiles, fond. During the busiest time of the year, he’s glad they were all able to make the time to gather.

He moves a little further into the room, carefully avoiding the chaos that is Yangyang gesturing wildly with his arms - and when Ten looks up again, his eyes find Johnny.

_Oh._ And isn’t he a sight for sore eyes.

Johnny has found a quiet spot by the window, conversing with Kun and observing the shenanigans of the rest of their members from a safe distance. He looks - Ten swallows. He looks cute and soft, in an oversized dark green sweater and a twinkling necklace made of glowing fairy lights. His blonde hair is swept into a ponytail at the base of his neck but his bangs still fall into his face; as Ten watches, he tucks a few strands behind his ear, grinning at something Kun says.

Ten’s heart clenches, under his ribs. He can feel the blush coming on - how did he think that he could be in the same room as Johnny and _not_ react like this? Especially on Christmas Eve, today of all days?

But then Johnny looks up and meets his gaze. It’s like watching the sun come out from behind the clouds, the way his expression immediately clears and he smiles, eyes creasing into crescents. He doesn’t even have to gesture for Ten to come over; Ten’s feet are already moving, drawing him to Johnny like a magnet.

Kun smirks over the lip of his extra-strong hot chocolate, expression smug. He quietly dismisses himself, waggling his eyebrows as he passes Ten to join the others by the couch - most likely to harass Chenle, based on noise alone.

“Hey,” Johnny says, as Ten draws near. He cradles a glass in one big hand, giving Ten a soft smile. The fifth floor’s Christmas tree is directly behind him, casting him in a warm halo of twinkling lights - as if the strand around his neck wasn’t enough. “Merry Christmas.”

“Oh,” Ten is helpless to stop the smile on his own face. He tilts his head, considering. “You’re the first one to say that to me tonight.”

Johnny laughs, and warmth ripples down Ten’s spine. “Ah, well - it’s not technically Christmas for another few hours, but close enough. Are you having fun?”

Ten hums, turning to look back out over the room packed full of their members. “It’s always fun when we get everyone together. I’m glad we’re having a holiday party.”

“Me too,” Johnny says. He flashes Ten a grin. “You should’ve seen Taeyong preparing over the last few days. Cleaning, baking, decorating - of course, he conscripted a lot of us to help.”

Ten elbows Johnny gently in the arm, careful not to spill his drink on his own cream-colored sweater. “Don’t front. I know you loved every minute of it.”

“Am I that transparent?” Johnny grins at Ten over the rim of his glass as he takes a sip of his wine, eyes bright and amused. “You caught me. You know I love everything about Christmas - and you’re right. It’s really amazing to celebrate together.”

“Yeah,” Ten sighs happily. His eyes glance over the room and he can’t help but chuckle. Lucas, Jeno, and Xiaojun are standing in a line, showing off muscle-flexing poses in their outlandish Christmas sweaters. Xiaojun’s sweater already looks like it’s a size too small - Hendery’s doing, no doubt, from the t-rex in a Santa hat on the front - and he looks adorably ridiculous puffing out his chest and flexing. Which is saying something, because Ten has seen him do the same as _Princess Xiaosmine_. “Even when they’re doing _that.”_

“Ah, youth,” Johnny chuckles. “Seems like only yesterday that we were that young.”

Ten rolls his eyes. “We’re not _that_ much older than any of them, hyung. Even Jisungie will be an adult soon.”

“And we’ve known each other how many years, hm?” Johnny says, eyebrows raised but voice close to a murmur. He looks - Ten doesn’t want to name it, hope growing in his heart like a tender flame. Johnny looks _fond,_ looking down at Ten. His eyes are dark and warm, reflecting the bright specks of light from the tree, from the strand of lights around his neck.

Johnny is beautiful; Ten’s always known that. Somehow, he looks even better flushed with affection, under the magical glow of Christmas.

Of course, that’s when Ten becomes aware of the rhythmic piano coming out of the speakers, a few thumping chords before Sia starts to sing: _I’ve got a crush, la-lala-la-la-la-like a schoolgirl. And I wanna rush, la-lala-la-la-la-like a fool would..._

And it’s definitely not the first time Ten’s heard Sia tonight.

But also for the first time, Ten can’t bring himself to feel bad about his feelings. He’s standing here, at Johnny’s side, their eyes locked as they linger, wrapped up in each other’s presence. Sure, the chaos of the party continues on around them, but their friends’ shenanigans fade into the background, white noise to Ten’s ears.

Here, in the bubble created by the glittering lights and the cool air from the window pane and Sia singing _‘cause baby it’s Christmas, la-lala-la-la-la, I wanna know ya_ \- Ten doesn’t care about the rest of it.

Because it’s Christmas, and he’s with Johnny; a curse isn’t going to stop him from enjoying being next to the person he loves.

Ten licks his lips. “It’s been a long time,” he replies softly, and from the way Johnny’s throat bobs as he swallows - maybe he feels it, too.

“Yeah,” Johnny says, voice a little hoarse. Is Ten imagining the flush high on his cheeks, or is that just from the red and orange lights on the Christmas tree behind him?

God, Ten just wants to - to lean into him, close the gap between them. They’re already caught in each other’s orbit, unable to look away.

“Oh, look!”

Ten and Johnny blink, the moment broken as they look up to see Yangyang bounding over to press his face against the glass. “It’s started snowing!”

“ _Finally,”_ Donghyuck says, following him to crowd over with them by the tree. Several others have gotten up to see, too. “We still haven’t gotten any snow that’s stuck around overnight -”

“Push over, I want to see -”

Ten exhales through his nose, mouth pressed into a thin-lipped smile. Of course; how could he forget that even when it _feels_ like it’s just the two of them, it’s -

“Come on.”

Warm fingers tangle with Ten’s, tugging him away from the knot of people now crowding against the quickly-fogging windows. Ten blinks up at Johnny’s wry smile as he leads them towards the front door, ignoring the rest of the party completely. His hand is warm and dry, the grip on Ten’s fingers sure. Ten lets himself be led, the pound of his heart in his ears almost loud enough to drown out Sia’s third repeat of this track.

“What are -” Ten cuts himself off as Johnny pauses by the front door, crouching to hunt through the absurdly large pile of shoes for his boots. He looks up at Ten, eyes gleaming with a little bit of mischief.

“Let’s get out of here,” Johnny says, giving Ten that smile that makes him unfairly weak in the knees. “Just for a little while, let’s - let’s just get some air. See the snow.”

Ten swallows. He doesn’t even fight the matching smile that he can feel blooming across his face. “Okay,” he says simply. “Let’s go.”

Johnny beams at him.

It only takes a few moments for them to pull on their shoes and rifle through the mass of coats before they’re slipping out the door, reining in their snickering only so long as it takes to get to the stairs. Maybe that’s another blessing in disguise for having so many members - no one paid any attention to them covertly making an exit, just the two of them.

Ten giggles as they rush down the stairs together, fumbling with the zipper on his coat and then pushing his bangs out of his face. Next to him, Johnny nearly trips with one boot still unlaced, and they laugh as they get to the bottom of the stairs and take a quick breather.

“I can’t believe that was so easy,” Ten admits, tugging up his collar to protect the back of his neck from the cold. He can feel it leaching into the stairwell; they’re on the ground floor now, and through the glass-paneled door he can see the snow falling in fat flakes.

Johnny finishes re-tying his boot and stands, grinning. His cheeks are definitely pink.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of this earlier,” he says, striding over to hold the door open for Ten. They wince together at the cold rush of air that whips against their cheeks, and then laugh at their matching reactions. “C’mon - let’s walk over to the park. They wrapped lights up and down the elm trees along the main path, it’s really pretty at night.”

“Sounds perfect,” Ten smiles, stepping out into the cold night air. He slows his steps so Johnny can catch up; it only takes a few long strides for him to do so, so they’re walking shoulder-to-shoulder.

And then Johnny catches Ten’s hand again, palm to palm, his right and Ten’s left. _Oh._

Ten glances up at Johnny, but he’s looking ahead, cheeks stained red in the hazy halo of light from the pale street lights above. Ten’s heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest. Is this…?

Johnny squeezes his hand. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Ten says. God, he sounds breathless - he _is_ breathless, even though he can see both of their exhalations in the air in front of him. Objectively he can feel the cold, but Ten feels flushed hot in his jacket.

This isn’t quite the same Johnny holding his hand for ice skating; that had been so Ten wouldn’t fall. But now - this is Johnny holding Ten’s hand because he _wants_ to. The thought nearly makes Ten dizzy.

Ten’s hand is a little clammy in Johnny’s, but he squeezes back. He licks his lips. “Yeah, it’s - good.”

“Good.” Johnny ducks his head, smiling; a few strands of his bangs fall into his face.

If Ten’s hand wasn’t occupied, he’d be tempted to brush them back behind Johnny’s ear. Maybe - maybe Johnny would _let him._

It’s a pleasantly quiet walk down their sleepy street; there’s something magical in the way that snow muffles sound, makes the world go silent and soft. They don’t see anyone else, though most of the lights are on in the houses and apartments they pass. The street lamps above them catch snowflakes in their beams as they flutter down - already there’s a fine layer of snow on the pavement, on bushes and parked cars and everything in sight. It makes a pleasant sound underfoot, softening their footsteps - Ten smiles when he looks back to see the trail they’ve left, two sets of dark footprints tracking through the white.

It’s like it’s just the two of them, hand in hand, under the snowy Seoul sky. The only two people in the world.

They laugh breathlessly when they jog across an empty street - there aren’t even tire-tracks through the fine layer of snow yet, just their footprints and the wide shoe-shaped mark where Johnny skids a little too fast on the slushy pavement. Johnny’s hair is speckled with droplets where snow has melted from his warmth.

Ten stares a beat too long, smiling - and doesn’t look away when Johnny catches him at it.

Something is shifting; Ten can sense it. This isn’t - it’s not very different from how they spend time in each other’s company, and yet it’s entirely new. It’s something changing in himself, in the way Ten doesn’t back down from moments he would have otherwise pulled away from.

It’s something in Johnny, too, in the way he meets Ten step for step.

They stroll wordlessly, in companionable silence in the hush of the city under snow. They’ve never needed to fill the space between them with constant conversation - but now there’s this _something_ crackling between them. It has only grown since they left the party, since that moment by the window that Ten flushes to even think of.

It feels inevitable. Ten shivers, but not quite from the cold.

“Ah,” Johnny murmurs. He tugs at Ten’s hand gently, moving so their fingers are more securely laced together - and then he pulls Ten even closer, so that he can tuck their joined hands in the soft-lined pocket of his coat. “Better?”

Like this, they have to walk even closer together. There’s really no denying what they look like; they’re not just shoulder to shoulder with hands linked, but in each other’s space like -

“Perfect,” Ten says softly, ducking his head to look at where his hand disappears into Johnny’s pocket. He bites his lip and hides his stupidly fond smile.

They cross along the front side of the park to get to the main gate, evergreen trees tipped with snow flanking the sidewalk. Snow swirls around their boots in little eddies; the boughs seem to sparkle in the muted light. It’s beautiful and so peaceful, so quiet.

And not just because for the first time in what feels like forever, Ten can’t hear any music.

It’s only when they arrive at the entrance and there’s a gap in the greenery that Ten sees it - the main footpath through the park lined with elms on either side. The path itself has nearly disappeared under the growing layer of white, leaving a perfect carpet of snow that stretches endlessly. The empty benches are dusted with gathering snow, like they’re hibernating through the winter weather.

But what makes Ten gasp is the lights.

True to Johnny’s word, the elms have been spun in long strands of white lights, all the way up the forking branches that reach towards the snowy sky. It’s a stunning sight, the snow refracting the warm glow in a magical, ethereal halo.

Johnny looks down at the soft sound Ten makes, their steps faltering as Ten drinks in the view. His eyes crease as he smiles at Ten’s obvious delight. “Beautiful, huh?”

“Wow,” Ten says, unable to tear his eyes away. The cool blue of the night sky and the gold-hued shine of the lights - it’s like something out of a painting. “You were right. It’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah,” Johnny whispers. Out of the corner of his eye, Ten can tell that Johnny’s not looking at the lights.

Ten’s helpless to his blush; he can feel his ears burn hotter, even in the cold.

They linger there at the entrance for a few moments longer, until Johnny clears his throat and nudges Ten gently with his elbow. “Do you want to take a picture? Or keep walking?”

“Mm,” Ten tilts his head. It would make for a lovely picture, but… “Maybe on the way back. I kind of want to just… keep this in my memory, you know? Just like this.”

Johnny hums thoughtfully in agreement, and Ten exhales as he commits the scene to memory. And not just the glow of the lights wrapped around the arching shapes of the trees, or the thick flakes settling on the ground around them - but the faint smell of winter in the air, the soft noise as he shifts foot to foot.

The warmth of Johnny’s hand in his.

Ten squeezes his fingers, glancing up through his bangs to Johnny’s pink-cheeked face. His nose has gone a little red too, with the cold. “Let’s walk.”

Johnny smiles, following Ten’s lead when he shuffles forward in the snow.

He wouldn’t have said it was possible, but walking through the tree-lined lane is even more beautiful than the view at the entrance of the light-studded trunks disappearing into the distance. Ten keeps looking up, trusting Johnny to guide them as he watches the twinkling lights of the branches above them. Their pace is sedate, unhurried; the party will be there for them whenever they get back.

But this is something truly special. There’s always something a little extra magical about the first snow of the season.

And there’s no one else Ten would rather be here with to see it.

“Johnny,” Ten says, when they draw near the center of the path, the lit trees stretching to either direction around them. The name falls from his lips easily, like breathing, even though Ten doesn’t have a plan for what to say.

It’s just - this feeling is building inside of him, filling him with warmth down to his fingertips. It’s not just the tentative hope that’s been growing and curling around his heart all night; it’s a pure sense of certainty in how perfect and right this all feels.

In what he feels for _Johnny._ In what he’s starting to suspect that Johnny feels for him, too.

They slow to a stop again, and Johnny turns to face Ten, giving him that soft smile that Ten’s never seen him give anyone else. Ten’s hand slips out of Johnny’s pocket but he keeps their fingers tangled in the scant space between them. They don’t move apart, still drawn into each other’s orbit.

Johnny’s eyelashes are dotted with snowflakes. The sight makes Ten’s heart jump to his throat.

He can’t be sure who moves first - or maybe it’s both of them leaning in, finally giving in to the pull of gravity between them. Ten’s free hand curls into the material of Johnny’s peacoat, damp with snow; Johnny cups a cool hand against Ten’s flushed cheek, guiding him to tilt his head just so. When Ten licks his lips, Johnny’s eyes dart down to them before meeting Ten’s gaze again, half-lidded and warm - and Ten can’t stop the smile that starts to unfold at the corner of his mouth, but -

But then Johnny’s lips meet his, and Ten _melts._

Oh, it’s more than he’s ever imagined.

Johnny’s lips are soft and warm against his, the cold tip of his nose pressed into Ten’s cheek as he leans down and Ten tilts up. Heat floods through Ten, every point where they touch like a closed circuit that lights him up from the inside out. His fingers clench in Johnny’s coat at the achingly tender way Johnny caresses him, his thumb tracing the arch of Ten’s cheekbone like he’s something precious.

Ten sighs into the kiss. This is perfect - even with the cold nipping at his fingers and the damp trick of melted snow against his neck and the strain in his calves - since when is Ten up on his toes? It doesn’t matter - he’s _kissing Johnny._

He can feel Johnny smile into the kiss, too, and the flutter of Johnny’s eyelashes against his skin. It’s Christmas, and this is _exactly_ where Ten wants to be.

Somewhere deep inside him, something clicks into place.

Their lips make a soft noise when they finally part to breathe, but neither of them move away, tangled in each other as they are. They’re pressed nearly chest-to-chest now, breathing each other’s air. Ten’s eyes flicker open; Johnny’s already looking down at him, something like wonder in his eyes.

Ten smiles, breathless. “Merry Christmas, Johnny.”

Johnny stares down at him, lips parted and flushed pink - and his growing smile makes Ten’s heart swell. Snow is caught in Johnny’s hair; Ten is _so_ in love with him. “ _Ten -”_

“Johnny, you _have_ to know,” Ten says, the words tumbling from his lips - he couldn’t stop himself if he tried. “You have to know that I love you. That I’m in love with you, and I have been in love with you for -”

“ _Years,”_ Johnny murmurs. He smooths his thumb along the line of Ten’s jaw, almost reverently. There’s no mistaking the emotion in his eyes now. “Ten, I - I’m _crazy_ about you, I thought I was being so obvious -”

“Obvious?” Ten laughs. It feels like his heart keeps tripping over itself in his chest, but - but in a good way, finally. He brushes a thin layer of snow off Johnny’s shoulder before looking up at him again. “I thought _I_ was being obvious, I couldn’t keep away from you all through the album stuff, let alone in December.”

“I took you on an _ice skating date,”_ Johnny says, his eyes crinkling as he grins. He raises his eyebrows imploringly. “A date in everything but name, at least. Ten, I pointed out _every time_ we heard a romantic song on the radio when we were together.”

“Was that what it was?” Ten grins, teasing, and - _oh._ There’s no way to know if kissing Johnny broke the curse, but honestly, Ten doesn’t care. He’ll gladly listen to the same romantic Christmas music every day for the rest of his life, because _Johnny loves him back_.

“All month long, it’s felt like we were in our own romantic Christmas movie,” Johnny continues, his smile turning a little bashful. “Not that I needed any help figuring out how I feel about you. Really, I - I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”

Oh, Ten noticed, all right - the music, at least. Ten sighs happily as he wipes a drip of snow from Johnny’s cheek. “I guess we’re both pretty oblivious, then.”

Johnny unlaces their fingers so he can frame Ten’s face with both hands. Ten clasps his hands over Johnny’s, threading their cold fingers. “I can’t believe you kissed me,” he admits, his cheeks so pink and warm Ten can feel it. Johnny leans in to rub the tips of their noses together, and Ten giggles, bright and fond. “You’re amazing.”

“Me? As if _this_ isn’t the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen,” Ten spreads his arms wide, gesturing to the park around them - the snow-dusted paths, the trees draped in white lights. “Admit it - _you_ wanted to kiss _me_ here.”

“Maybe I did,” Johnny says softly. His eyes dip to Ten’s mouth, and Ten’s stomach flips as Johnny leans down again. “Maybe I do.”

“ _Johnny,”_ Ten breathes, heat rushing down his spine as they come together in another kiss.

Oh, Ten’s never going to tire of this - not after they’ve both waited for so long. Their lips move together so perfectly, kiss melting into kiss after kiss, like they know exactly what the other needs.

And they do, even if this part is new. Right now all Ten wants and needs is Johnny, and he finally has him, right here in his arms.

“I don’t want to waste another moment,” Johnny tells him when they part, murmuring against Ten’s cheek before they pull far enough away to look at each other. His ears are pink and his long blond hair is falling into his face but Johnny’s eyes are warm, honest. Rumpled and in love is a good look on him.

Johnny smiles, looking as breathless as Ten feels. “I love you, and I’m not letting go of you.”

It sure is a rush, hearing those words. If Johnny didn’t have his hands on Ten’s hips, Ten thinks he might have actually gone weak at the knees.

To prove his point, Johnny flexes his arms around Ten, keeping him trapped in his warm embrace. Ten can’t resist cocking an eyebrow. “That’s going to make it a little hard to walk back home, you know.”

Johnny smirks. “Oh yeah?”

Ten shrieks as Johnny fastens his arms more securely around his waist, lifting Ten to spin them both around and around in the snow. He clings to Johnny, arms around Johnny’s neck and faces tucked close together as they laugh. The sound of it rings in the quiet of the park as Johnny slows and sets Ten gently back on his feet - though of course he doesn’t let go.

“I can’t believe you,” Ten giggles. He can’t stop smiling, even as his cheeks start to sting from the cold. “I’m in love with a sap.”

“Hey, I’m a _Christmas_ sap, get it right,” Johnny grins. His smile is brilliant as Ten reaches up to tuck his bangs behind his ear, like he’s wanted to all night. “And you are, too.”

“I am,” Ten admits easily, unashamed. He plays with the short hairs at the nape of Johnny’s neck, enjoying the little tremor he can feel run across Johnny’s skin at the sensation of his cool fingertips. “Gonna kiss me under the mistletoe, Mr. Romantic?”

Ten’s only half-joking, so it’s no surprise when Johnny actually lights up at the idea, his smile going wide. “I’m pretty sure Doyoung hung some up somewhere in the dorm - not that he’d admit it. We’ll have to look for it when we get back.”

“We _should_ be heading back,” Ten sighs, breaking Johnny’s gaze so that he can take in the scene around them again. The snow is really coming down, now; their footprints have started to disappear under the fresh layer. It’ll be up to their ankles soon. “This really is so beautiful, though. Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” Johnny says. He unwinds one of Ten’s arms from around his neck so that he can press a kiss to Ten’s open palm, and then slide their hands together. Ten flushes, certain his entire face is pink; it must be, from Johnny’s grin. _God,_ how can Johnny be so - so perfect, so romantic? Ten’s heart isn’t going to be able to take it, after so much pining.

Thank god their ability to banter hasn’t changed. Although, if Ten’s being honest, it’s not banter as much as it is flirting. And it probably has been, this entire time.

“Home?” Ten asks, linking their fingers together. He squeezes Johnny’s hand, warmth surging through him when Johnny squeezes back.

Johnny smiles, reaching out with his free hand to brush a little snow out of Ten’s hair. His hand lingers near Ten’s cheek, like he still can’t believe this is real, that he’s allowed to touch like this.

“Yeah,” he says, swinging their laced hands between them. “Let’s go home.”

-❄-

“Think they’ll notice we were gone for so long?”

Johnny grins at Ten’s question, trying - and failing - to comb the damp stands of his hair into some semblance of order. It doesn’t work; it’s pretty obvious that he’s been out in the weather, between his stung-pink cheeks and the slush clinging to his boots.

Actually, it’s a pretty cute look on him. Ten already wants to kiss him again.

“The party was in full swing when we left,” Johnny says, unbuttoning his jacket as they approach the door to the fifth floor dorm. He half-shrugs, smiling. “With twenty-one other members, you’d think two gone wouldn’t be much of a big deal.”

Ten rolls his eyes. “Let’s just hope that they’ve been thoroughly distracted by the festivities.”

Johnny quirks an eyebrow. “You worried about someone noticing?”

“I’m not ashamed of being with you, or being in love with you,” Ten says. It’s still a thrill, to be able to say it _out loud,_ to Johnny’s face. And it’s worth it, for how Johnny's eyes soften with affection. “I just live with _Yangyang;_ I know how this might go _._ And maybe I want you all to myself for a little while, before everyone else knows.”

Johnny’s grin morphs into a smirk as he puts a hand on the doorknob, pushing the door open. “Well, when you put it like that -”

“Johnny! Ten!”

Ten looks up, blinking. Well, there goes that plan.

Thankfully it’s only Taeyong, tugging them inside by the damp sleeves and fussing over them before they even get their jackets fully off. He pouts, looking put out. “You went _outside_ in this weather?”

Ten bites his lip; he and Johnny exchange hesitant glances. “It’s the first real snow of the year - I wanted to take a walk.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t catch cold,” Johnny puts a hand on Taeyong’s shoulder and gives him an easy smile; that seems to be enough to assuage him. “Look, we’ll take our boots off and go get something warm to drink, okay?”

“You better. Please don’t drip on my floor,” Taeyong says, not unkindly - but he’s already turning away, eyes darting to where Yuta has climbed up onto the couch cushions, brandishing a full glass of red wine at the collected audience of Taeil, Mark and Jeno. “Hold that thought -”

Ten muffles his laugh into Johnny’s shoulder as Taeyong scurries off; the chaos never stops. When he looks up again from taking off his boots, though, Ten finds Hendery _and_ Jaemin watching them from across the room. They both give him synchronized, entirely unsubtle thumbs up, and Ten feels himself flush to his ears. Damnit.

“What were you drinking earlier, hot chocolate?” Johnny asks, putting their damp shoes off to the side and gesturing for Ten to follow him towards the kitchen. It takes everything in Ten not to immediately grab Johnny’s hand again, as much as he wants to.

“Yeah,” Ten says, a little surprised that Johnny noticed - or remembered.

Johnny shoots a smirk at him over his shoulder. “Thought I tasted it,” he says, and _oh._ A smirk and a reference to their kiss shouldn’t make heat spark so quickly in Ten’s belly - but it’s _Johnny,_ so of course it does.

“Look,” Ten says, trying to distract from the tell-tale pink in his cheeks. He nods up to the sprig of greens hanging in the open doorway to the hall, white berries and vibrant leaves tied with a perfect red bow. “You were right about Doyoung’s mistletoe. Still up for some romance?”

They’re heading in that direction anyway - the kitchen is through that doorway, which is certainly why the mistletoe has been strategically hung there. Johnny slows his steps and turns to Ten as he comes to stand underneath it, waggling his eyebrows.

“You know all I want for Christmas is you,” he says, catching Ten around the waist, and Ten rolls his eyes even as he anchors his hands on Johnny’s shoulders, pressing them together chest to thigh.

“If you start singing Mariah Carey…” Ten warns.

“Better shut me up then,” Johnny smirks, eyes glittering with amusement and mischief and the nearby Christmas lights. It’s a dumb line and it still makes Ten smile - and he doesn’t hesitate to reel Johnny in with a hand tangled in his hair, pulling him down for a kiss.

They sway a little under the mistletoe, Ten reaching up and Johnny leaning down for their lips to meet, perfect and warm even as they struggle a little for balance. Oops - maybe Ten was _too_ enthusiastic. But then Johnny’s fingertips sneak up the bottom hem of Ten’s sweater, cool against the skin at the small of his back. So he’s not the only one eager for this.

Someone wolf-whistles, and Ten grins into the kiss - but he doesn’t pull away. This is _his_ moment to finally enjoy, and thankfully Johnny seems to be right there with him.

There’s a series of gasps as more of their members notice, and a wordless holler that’s probably Lucas, or maybe Yangyang. Laughter bubbles up in Ten’s chest; well, if everyone was going to find out anyway, it may as well be like this.

Vaguely, Ten hears the Christmas music fade out as one track comes to a close - and another one begins. A _different_ one: the buttery-smooth baritone of Frank Sinatra singing _Have yourself a merry little Christmas,_ even if it’s not easy to tell over the chaos.

_Hell_ yes. Curse broken - though Ten didn’t need a curse to tell him how _right_ it feels to kiss Johnny. Not when he finally gets a chance to do it as much as he wants.

“Holy _shit,”_ Ten hears Hendery say somewhere behind him. “Xiaojun, I think they broke the cur- mmmf!”

Ten would laugh, if he could, at the audible _smack_ of Xiaojun’s hand over Hendery’s mouth.

They only break for air when neither of them can control their grins anymore, tipping into each other to giggle amid the continued hollering coming from their members. There’s a burst of applause, and when Ten turns to look at the room, most of their gathered members are watching the two of them with broad smiles.

“Damn,” Mark says, clearing his throat.

“Took you long enough, Johnny,” Doyoung rolls his eyes, but he looks as fond as he does exasperated. Jaehyun’s still hanging off his shoulders, which may have something to do with it.

“I _told_ you -” Yangyang starts, and Ten takes that as their cue. He’s not particularly shy around his members anymore, but his face still feels warm from the attention. And from kissing Johnny. More than enough reason to escape somewhere, just the two of them.

“Okay, thank you,” he says, grabbing Johnny by the wrist. “I’m going to get hot chocolate in the kitchen with my _boyfriend,_ can you all be chill about this by the time we get back?”

“ _Boyfriend_ ,” Johnny says - less of a question, from the sort of dreamy tone of his voice - and Ten doesn’t wait for a response before tugging him away from the mistletoe and down the hall. The catcalls follow them, to no surprise. They’re probably never going to live down getting together on Christmas.

Johnny twists his hand in Ten’s grip so that they’re palm-to-palm. God, Ten’s not going to get tired of that either - or the way Johnny’s affectionate gaze makes the breath catch in his chest.

“Boyfriend,” Johnny repeats when they slow to a stop in the empty kitchen, using their joined hands to wind Ten in against his chest. Ten turns in the circle of his arms so he can smile up at Johnny. _Boyfriend._ The word makes something warm flood through him, too. “Guess my Christmas wish actually came true this year.”

“Oh yeah?” Ten raises an eyebrow, chuckling. “That’s all you wanted? A cute boyfriend?”

“Weeeeell,” Johnny draws out the word, feigning thoughtfulness - but his eyes have already flickered down to Ten’s mouth. Johnny grins when he meets Ten’s gaze, knowing he’s been caught. “And maybe one other thing.”

The words haven’t fully left Johnny’s lips before Ten’s on his tiptoes again, leaning in.

Hot chocolate can wait.

**Author's Note:**

> love on repeat: the playlist can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3RkfDI8uJkBOBMt9LokfOW?si=P29IfZdhQH-5Giyx3vkyQg).  
> Johnny's playlist of every version of Baby, It's Cold Outside (yes, really) can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2GO1utVwkJsrvOK5tGgmnB?si=tCy6reKzRI-J12foNgCDlQ).
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ven_writes?s=20) | [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/venvephe)


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